[ Outside the Gate ]
The scene shifts to a dimly lit underground bar in the heart of the city. Despite the sun hanging high in the sky, a few patrons linger, sipping their drinks in hushed tones.
But this is no ordinary bar. It’s a meeting place for those who lurk in the shadows.
In a secluded corner, a woman in an elegant, form-fitting dress sits alone, her face obscured by the darkness. With a graceful motion, she pours a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the overhead light.
A man dressed entirely in black approaches and silently takes the seat opposite her.
"So," she begins, swirling her drink lazily. "How’s the collection coming along?" Her voice is refined, yet laced with amusement, as if savoring some private joke.
"Almost finished," the man replies,
