Round 70

Silra's fingers moved across her interface like a concert pianist, each gesture precise and purposeful. The floating screens surrounding her flickered with lines of code, shifting colors, and security system alerts she was systematically dismantling. She glanced up at Jeane, her teal eyes sharp with irritation but also something else—admiration for the demon's patience, perhaps? "I'm not planting anything," Silra snapped, her voice echoing in the confined space. "I'm hacking our way through this corporate hellhole one protocol at a time." She gestured sharply to the floating screens. "And if you think I'm going to let some overgrown demon bitch rush me into trouble because she can't wait five minutes for me to do my job properly, then you can take that cart and drown yourself while I finish this alone!"