Researcher Zyn Kiryu had absolutely no idea what to expect today as she stepped inside Site-19.
The Site was as peachy as usual. With its reinforced titanium walls and grimey, bland-looking rooms—she was beginning to feel excited. Why? No reason. The author just couldn't think of a better word to put there, honestly. Anyway, someone from maintenance must've brightened the overhead lights above, which made everything shine a bright hue of yellow. As she passed the receptionist's desk, she couldn't help but internally monologue to herself. Because that's what you do when you can't fucking write dialogue and you still need to characterize the protagonist, apparently. Wow, she thought un-enthusiastically. Nothing could beat this. Her smile brightened as she continued towards Kiryu Labs, trying her hardest to ignore the pains and shrieks of D-Class who were currently having their pelvis's twisted like a pretzel stick. Could they be any louder? Just shut up already, weaklings.
She finally arrived at her desk. Awaiting her was a work-laptop, which buzzed alive after Kiryu grazed the mousepad. It wasn't surprising to see that she already had several notifications waiting for her.
FROM: Site-19/HR (Group)
TO: Zyn Kiryu
New batch of troublemakers. It'll be your job to dispose of them. Do whatever you need, just don't let them become nuisances again. We've already sent you the details.
~~~~~~
Good luck.
That was when she exhaled the smoke that billowed from her Robusto cigar, before promptly dropping the cancer-stick and stomping it against the floor. She wasn't a smoker. That was an obvious character detail. Apparently, the author hadn't fucking read enough about the character to know what he was doing. Fucking dumbass.