Back in the office, Sera drops into the chair in front of the desk, already pulling the keyboard closer, fingers moving faster than his breathing.
The room feels cramped with urgency, Nakahara standing behind him with his arms folded, Ryoma leaning against the wall, silent but alert.
"Chao Phraya Elite Boxing Promotion…" Sera mutters.
He types variations into the search bar, skimming past Thai-language pages, outdated articles, half-dead social media links. Every second stretches. He refreshes, scrolls, clicks again, jaw tightening as the minutes slip by.
"There," he says at last, stopping on a sparsely designed site.
A contact page loads slowly, as if mocking him, until a phone number finally appears. Sera reaches for the phone on the desk, dials the country code by memory, and punches in the rest.
The line rings, and he waits.
Then the call connects. A voice answers in Thai, quick and fluid, words tumbling too fast for Sera to catch.
