"Sir, if everything's good to go, I'll take them out for patrol duty now," Lyra said, exuding confidence.
As she spoke, Norman noticed the desperate, almost pitiful looks from the young troublemakers. He fidgeted nervously, rubbing his hands together. "W-Wait, you're putting them to work already? Shouldn't you get a little time to adjust first?"
"No need," Lyra replied, her gaze sharp as a blade. "I've got it under control."
Her eyes said what her lips didn't: 'I'll bring every last one of them back... even if they don't want to.'
Norman caught the underlying threat and quickly waved his hand. "Alright, then, off you go."
He had Lyra here for precisely this reason—to put these entitled brats in their place. As long as things didn't go too far, he wasn't losing any sleep over it.
Yawning, he strolled back to his office, leaving Lyra to handle the rest.
