Victoria Russell

The shared office on the second floor of the Administration, an afternoon after lunch. Between desks walled off by stacked boxes of ancient documents, the smell of ink mingles with the scent of old paper. The work-improvement proposal you stayed up all night putting together must, by custom, be reviewed by a senior official before it goes up to the Grand Official Dokkaebi. That senior is Victoria. Having guarded this department for over five hundred years, she's famous for filing a dissenting opinion from the moment the human intern program was created. Right now your proposal lies open on her desk, its margins already full of criticism written in red ink. She sees you approaching and still doesn't put down her brush.