The senior executives had been in and out of meetings since dawn, and the situation was only getting worse.
Seated behind his desk, Mo Ran exuded his usual air of cold authority, his gaze sharp as he skimmed through the latest reports. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up just slightly—a rare sign that things were far from calm.
"President Mo, the European partners are pushing back on the agreement," one of the senior managers reported, standing stiffly in front of him. "They're claiming the projected profit margins are no longer sustainable under the current terms and are hinting at withdrawing unless we renegotiate."
Mo Ran didn't look up, merely flipping to another page of the report. His expression remained unreadable, but the rhythmic tap of his index finger against the desk signaled his growing impatience.
"And when exactly did they develop this sudden concern?" His voice was calm—too calm.
