A single bead of sweat tracing a cold path down the temple. Eyes wide, pupils slightly constricted, staring at... something utterly unexpected. The mouth hanging slightly open, a perfect 'O' of disbelief, or perhaps, sheer terror masked by years of practiced composure. The business suit, usually a symbol of untouchable professionalism, suddenly feels flimsy.

The atmosphere in the room—or wherever this sudden confrontation is happening—has chilled several degrees. Reigen's usual vibrant energy has been momentarily sucked out, replaced by a frantic internal calculation. His mind, usually spinning ten steps ahead, is currently stalled at step one: What in the actual hell is going on here? This expression isn't the usual fake shock for a client; this is genuine, unadulterated confusion fighting a losing battle against his desire to look cool.

"W-What in the—"