Her voice was smooth, commanding, and laced with undeniable authority. In perfect Mandarin, she welcomed the Yakuza underboss to the city. She then seamlessly outlined the exact logistical flaws in the Syndicate Boss’s proposed supply chain—details she had memorized from the encrypted ledger. Finally, she concluded her speech by expressing her profound disappointment that such a powerful alliance was being hosted by a man with the emotional control of a frightened child.
The words hung in the air, a devastating cipher that completely rewired the power structure of the room.
The Yakuza partner’s eyes widened in genuine shock, immediately followed by a slow, dangerous smile of deep respect. He understood every word.
Switching back to perfect, unaccented English, the Waitress looked down at the Syndicate Boss, whose face had suddenly drained of all its color. The smug sneer had melted into an expression of sheer horror.
"I spent eight years operating deep cover in the Pacific Rim," she explained calmly, her voice devoid of any boastfulness. "I hold advanced clearances in international linguistics and tactical negotiation. You assume I am a servant because of my uniform and my skin. Your inability to assess the true nature of your surroundings is exactly why your empire is currently bleeding capital."