Ricardo leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked, eyes half-lidded as if he were merely thinking about something trivial. But Simpson knew better. That calm always came before a move.
"Simpson," Ricardo said quietly, his voice low and measured, "arrange a meeting with that Mr. Arthur Conan… and Raven."
Simpson straightened immediately. "Yes, big brother."
At the Eagle Eye headquarters, the corridors emptied earlier than usual. One by one, employees packed their files and left, ordered to rest and clear their minds before the new case fully unfolded. The air itself felt tense, like a storm pausing just before breaking.
Vaelor, Truman, Jackson, and Robert exited together, their footsteps echoing faintly.
"This case," Jackson said grimly, "could stir national-level trouble. We'll need to give everything we have."
Truman nodded. "No mistakes."
Vaelor, however, was visibly lighter in mood. The thought of leave stirred something warm in his chest.
I should go out with Perun and Serin, he thought. Maybe the Norus Library… I'll tell Serin with myself.
They got into the car.
"I think," Truman said as he started the engine, "we should do a team lunch soon."
The car rolled forward, vanishing into the afternoon streets.
Kaspus Bar was unusually quiet.
The air inside was cool, relaxed—too relaxed, as if the place was holding its breath. Lukman as Arthur Conan sat at a corner table, while Perun as Raven—wearing his traveler's hat—sat slightly apart, his posture loose but his eyes sharp.
They looked like men minding their own business.
They weren't.
They ordered food, spoke softly, and waited.
Then— The door creaked open.
Four large men entered the bar. Broad shoulders, heavy boots, thick beards. Their jackets were dark and stiff, each decorated with small conical metal pins that caught the dim light like dull fangs.
The temperature seemed to drop.
One of them approached the bar and slammed a photograph onto the counter.
"Have you seen these people?" he asked Tony.
Tony glanced at it briefly. "Lots of people come here."
The man leaned closer, his voice turning cold. "Just answer. Did you see them or not?"
Tony swallowed. "No. I didn't."
One of the men behind him murmured, "Sir… this is Ricardo Williams' bar. We shouldn't cause trouble here."
The leader shot Tony a long, dangerous glare—then turned and left. The others followed.
Only after the door closed did the bar seem to breathe again.
Lukman leaned toward Perun. "You see that?"
Perun nodded slowly. "Yeah. Ricardo really is a big shot."
"If he's involved," Lukman added, "then this is part of something big."
Moments later, Simpson entered.
He walked straight to the bar. "Tony. Who were those bastards?"
"They were searching for someone," Tony whispered, leaning in and saying something in Simpson's ear.
Simpson stiffened—but quickly masked his reaction.
"If that happens again," he said calmly, "tell them this is Big Brother Ricardo's bar."
Tony let out a shaky breath. "I didn't even need to. One of them already knew. They were scared."
Simpson scanned the room. "Where are the traveler guys?"
Tony nodded subtly toward Lukman and Perun's table.
They were pretending to eat, pretending not to notice—but their tightened lips and lowered voices betrayed them.
They're watching us, Perun thought.
Good. The plan's moving.
Simpson approached their table and bowed politely.
"Hello."
Lukman frowned. "Who are you?"
Simpson smiled slightly. "Aren't you Mr. Arthur Conan? It's a pleasure. And you—Mr. Raven. Greetings to both of you."
Perun looked up, eyes cool. "And you are?"
"I'm here on behalf of—" Simpson stopped himself, glancing around. Even with few people present, risk was risk. "Perhaps we should continue this elsewhere?"
Not long after, they were seated inside a building owned by Arthur Conan and Raven.
They lounged on the couch, wearing expressions of disinterest—but inwardly, curiosity burned.
Simpson began, "I work for Ricardo Williams. He is our boss. Our big brother."
"Talk fast," Lukman said. "We don't have all day."
Simpson nodded. "Big Brother wants you to be part of a party."
Perun raised an eyebrow. "A party?"
"A secret team," Simpson clarified.
"And why us?" Perun asked.
"We're looking for people who are wealthy, influential," Simpson said evenly, "and who don't belong to this place."
Lukman leaned back. "So you want outsiders."
"We're inviting you to a meeting."
Perun's gaze sharpened. "What's the end goal?"
"That," Simpson said, "is something you'll discuss directly with Big Brother and the others."
Lukman exchanged a glance with Perun. "If we're meeting someone bigger, then forming relations isn't a problem."
"But," Perun added calmly, "if it's not worth our time, we won't waste it."
Simpson smiled faintly. "I assure you, sir—it will be worth your time."
Perun paused, then nodded. "Alright. Give us the address and the time."
The web had been cast.