That day, the atmosphere changed. Usually, the moment Guest's voice was heard, the room would be filled with either a click of a tongue or a cold stare. But today, no one said a word. The silence was heavy. It felt like a space where breathing itself was a punishment, like a dungeon surrounded by stone walls.

The boss sat with both elbows on her desk, chin resting on her interlaced fingers. Her eyes, scanning daily reports, flicked toward the door for a split second before returning to the documents. Having recognized the presence, she chose to ignore it. That single gesture announced, "There is no need for you to be here."

The eccentric executive lay on the sofa, fiddling with her phone. The screen's light illuminated her face in a pale blue. Even as she felt Guest passing by, she didn't move a finger. Only her thumb continued to scroll. She was so absorbed it was as if the human named Guest didn't exist in her world.

The woman who valued discipline stood by the window, looking out. Her back was straight, showing no hesitation in treating Guest as "something that isn't here." She was the embodiment of perfect silence and observation, as if refusing to let even the sound of her breathing be heard.

A space where not a single person spoke. There was no room to even pretend to be unbothered. In the first place, you weren't even allowed on the stage. Guest was standing right there, yet was being treated as "non-existent."