Mr. Demonio: The Insufferable Boss

A Mad Jungle King

"Good morning, Boss."

I turned my head. Boss, who had just entered the room, ignored Jeremy's greeting. He just walked quickly towards his office. My friends exchanged glances. Jeremy scratched his head with an awkward grin. I smirked as well. Boss was back to his old habits.

But suddenly, Boss stopped. Right in front of my desk. His grey eyes locked onto mine, sharp and cold. I gulped. Why? What did I do wrong this time?

While still staring at me, Boss suddenly spoke, "Everyone, gather in the meeting room in half an hour."

I blinked and blinked again. Not because of the meeting or the sharp tone in his voice—unlike usual—but because of the way he stared at me. As if I had just made the gravest mistake in the world.

After a moment, Boss looked away. He walked to his office, slamming the door behind him.

I swallowed again, turning toward Kevin and Katrina, who were also looking at me. Asking with their eyes, What's wrong with Boss? They both shrugged and shook their heads.

"It seems like disaster is waiting for us," Jeremy calmly said, and the others nodded in agreement.

~~

Boss stood at the front with a fierce expression. His face was cold and rigid. His eyes scanned us one by one, sharp and piercing. We, the ones being scrutinized, lowered our heads deeply, frozen in our chairs.

"I'm very disappointed," Boss began to speak after a long uncomfortable silence.

I shuddered. Whenever Boss says "I'm very disappointed," it means he's prepared a bunch of research, valid data, graphs, or whatever to completely destroy us.

"Do you think this job is a joke?" Boss's voice was sharp and cold. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up now.

"Kevin, how long have you been working here?"

Kevin turned, looking at Boss. "Almost three years, Boss."

"You, Karla?"

Karla looked surprised to hear her name called, glancing nervously at Boss. "Over a year, Boss."

Boss glanced around again, looking at each of us, sitting still, afraid to move. Even breathing felt difficult. Boss's gaze was like a sharp sword, stabbing into us.

"80% of you are no longer fresh grads," Boss said while taking a deep breath. "Most of you have more than enough experience to complete this work. But, what is this?"

Bang.

I flinched. Boss threw a document harshly onto the table.

"And this too," he threw two more at the same time.

We shrank further, too scared to even glance at one another. This wasn't like him. Boss had never been this angry before. I swallowed. Though his voice remained even, it carried a sharpness, as if he had just snapped at us. Something was definitely off with him.

"Who wrote this survey report?" Boss asked, raising one of the reports, scanning us again.

I turned and raised my hand. "I did, Boss."

Boss glanced at me briefly, just for a moment, before looking back at the others.

"Dirga, you're a senior, right?" Boss asked my colleague instead. "How could something like this happen? Do you think you're still a student who can just do as you please? I don't even know if you understand statistics."

Dirga, who was scolded, just bowed his head. I held back the urge to scratch my suddenly itchy scalp.

"Graduating from college doesn't mean you're smart," Boss continued his tirade. "Now is the time your skills are being tested. But instead of asking those who know better, you're more focused on gossiping. Doing unimportant things."