Chapter 19.3 - End of the day

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The employees happily have already begun to eat. Some sit with their department and others with friends and family. Miss Flora and Mr. Vladimir spot their friends who have a plate waiting for them. Miss Flora hesitates for a moment, however, Mr. Vladimir does not and darts away without a glance backward. Before Miss Flora can speak, Miss Reed says, "It's fine, go and sit with your friends."

Miss Flora hesitatingly joins her friends all the while keeping an eye on Miss Reed. She wasn't the only one as many curious eyes were watching Miss Reed's actions. To the vast surprise of many of the employees, Miss Reed, the owner of Marchen Inc. patiently waits in line to order a meal, rather than darting to the front of the line. This action left many startled, Miss Reed as the owner and there was no need for her to wait in line with the employees.

The nervous employees in line politely chat with Miss Reed, fearful of insulting the owner. Yet despite being intimidating, Miss Reed always responded to any question made by an employee. After taking a plate piled high with food, Miss Reed departed to the relief of the employees. Not that Miss Reed was terrible to be around with, but it's always awkward to eat with the boss around.

Finished with their meals, the employees returned to their positions. The culinary department would finish cleanup and preparations for tomorrow, before departing to their own work party site. Finally, the first day of work of was over and employees swiftly made their way out of the doors. The last of the employees leave except for security.

Mr. McLoughlin locks the doors and leads his assigned team to train in Floor Zero, while the rest of security remains at their posts. Mr. Smith, a former villain glances at the screens of cameras with mana detection capabilities. Terry and Sam, fledging heroes of the D-Rank shiver at Mr. Smith's firm gaze. It wasn't that they were bias or anything it's just that Mr. Smith was a former villain after all and it was a wonder to them, how he had even been hired to begin with given his previous occupation. However, the owner, Miss Reed had personally approved of his current position and no one would be stupid enough to argue with the boss.

Mr. Smith glances at his watch and says, "Make sure to alternate shifts every hour," before heading out the door.

"Wait, Mr. Smith, aren't you going to supervise us?" Terry chocked out.

"No, I am sure even a monkey could handle overseeing the camera's," Mr. Smith pleasantly commented before departing. Terry and Sam flush with embarrassment but are unable to even complain. After all, who would even dare to, to a villain's own face?

Mr. Smith lets out a soft whistle and soft whine can be heard as a large wolf monster appears out of nowhere before him. Mr. Smith leans down and says, "Miss Reed said, we may be receiving an unexpected visitor or two, tonight. Keep an eye on the boys, but more importantly the doors."

Wolfe lets out a grunt in affirmative reply, before vanishing and soundlessly padding away. Mr. Smith nods in approval of his new boss's pet. A former right-hand villain's henchmen, Mr. Smith was accustomed to dealing with security problems. But he'd never had a villain boss, who was willing to employ monsters as guards rather than lasers. It was quite nice to be working with an employer who did not lack common sense for a change.

Whistling Mr. Smith strides into the elevator and puts on red goggle on his face. It had been a long time he had been able to use his babies and he had been losing his touch. It was a godsend when he learned that he had passed the background check to be employed as a security head. Not to mention that his wife and children were thrilled with the pay, hours and benefits being offered. It was still a mystery to him why Miss Reed hired him, but Mr. Smith wasn't in the habit of openly questioning his boss. Besides, Miss Reed gave the impression of being a ticking crocodile. Just because one can hear the tick, that doesn't mean one is able to escape the gaping, hungry jaws.

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