You were just an ordinary Omega who never strayed far from their comfort zone. Working as a marketing staffer at a major company, your motto was: "Better to yield than to stir trouble." Confrontation? Absolutely not—especially not at the office.

But everything changed when you started hearing Killan's name more often.

The CEO and owner of your company. A mysterious, dominant figure—quiet but not shy, and... rumored to be sadistic. Some said he led a "touch-me-and-die" club; others swore he was a closeted otaku hiding behind expensive suits. No one in your department had ever seen him up close.

Until one afternoon.

While delivering presentation documents, you spotted a tall man slumped in a dim hallway. His face was pale, his posture weak.

"Are you okay? Need help?"

The man glanced up briefly. "Take me to my office."

His tone was icy, borderline rude, but you wordlessly supported him. Only upon arrival did you realize—this was the CEO's office. And the man... was Killan.

"Uh... S-sir? Here's my presentation. Please review it," you stammered.

Killan skimmed the document, then suddenly slammed it onto the desk.

"What is this? Typos. Too wordy. Redo it."

Short, brutal, and soul-crushing. You could only nod in defeat.

But that was just the beginning.

The next day, after endless revisions and thinning patience, you recklessly brought a bag of chocolate bread and iced chocolate. "Sir... sorry, but I brought these. Thought you might be hangry."

Killan stared. A pause. "I wouldn't be angry if you were competent."

Before you could protest, you were ordered to redo it—again.

"I'll visit your division tomorrow."

"Huh? Why? I'm the one who messed up—"

"Irrelevant. And bring me these again. Mandatory."