As River stood inside the rundown bar, the scent of cheap alcohol, sweat, and smoke clung heavily to the air. The flickering lights above buzzed like dying insects, casting intermittent glows that made the corners seem darker than they really were. Peeling wallpaper drooped from the walls like sagging skin, and the floor creaked beneath his feet with every shift of weight. The moans from one of the corners grew louder for a moment, only to be muffled again by the rhythmic hum of some outdated machinery somewhere in the back.
River's sharp eyes scanned everything with a cold detachment, but deep inside, something coiled in his gut. Not from fear, but disgust. This was the lowest of lows in Voulton City—its dark underbelly, the kind of place people either feared or forgot. And yet, this was exactly where River had chosen to begin his next move.
