8-The German Efficiency Dilemma

 Franz wasn’t used to this.

The casual teasing, the easygoing banter—it was a stark contrast to what he was accustomed to. Back at the German DPW division, interactions were kept professional, discussions were to the point, and unnecessary talk was exactly that—unnecessary. His former colleagues didn’t waste breath on idle jokes or poke fun at each other. They worked, they planned, and they executed.

But here?

Here, he was surrounded by people who didn’t seem to take things as seriously as they should.

He found it annoying.

Adán’s smirk, Ren’s snickering, even Sophia’s exasperated sigh—it all grated on him in ways he couldn’t quite put into words. This wasn’t a social event; it was an elite selection process. They should be focused. They should be preparing.

Yet, despite the irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior, there was something else.

Something he couldn’t quite ignore.

It was… endearing.

Not that he would admit it.

Not that he even fully understood why.

But there was an ease to the way these people interacted, a camaraderie that felt unforced. Like they had already accepted each other as part of the same unit, even if they were still strangers. It was different. Strange. But not entirely unwelcome.

Franz sighed, adjusting his tool belt again. The moment he did, Adán—who was clearly watching—grinned like he had just won something.

Franz exhaled sharply, looking straight ahead. “You are an insufferable man.”

Adán clapped a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “Danke, man. That means a lot.”

Ren cackled. Even Helena smirked.

Franz shook his head, muttering something under his breath. It was going to be a long day.

—