I'm not Joking...
"What the hell?!" Harries Singh rubbed his forehead with irritation, the weight of forgotten responsibilities bearing down on him. "I completely forgot about this issue. How naive...! Shit... Shit... Shit..." he muttered, his frustration boiling over into a headache-inducing cry of distress.
Reaching for his walkie-talkie, Harries moved to contact someone, the urgency in his movements evident. But before he could make the call, Das intervened, placing a firm hand over the device.
"Whom are you contacting, General?" Das inquired, his expression grave, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation.
"Of course, the president. I need his permission to form a capable team to stop this impending danger," Harries replied, his voice tinged with urgency and determination.
"Don't do it. You won't succeed if you go through official channels," Das interjected, his tone confident and assured.