Ryan sat on the couch quickly, back leaned in next to the soft fabric of the sofa's leather. The low jazz music filled the air, the background was filled with the soothing hum, and the room smelled of expensive cigarettes and alcohol.

The dim red light was flickering—making dark strips on everything—everything felt calm, but his mind didn't agree with it.

He stared at the carpet for a moment, thoughts were racing faster than the music, and the background noise wasn't reaching inside of his ears.

'For God's sake, the boss of this area shouldn't be like the last guy,' he thought, fists clenched a bit, breathing out slowly through his mask, voice echoed inside of his head, tired but completely cautious. 'If he's close to that A-rank stat, then I'm definitely dying tonight. There's no fucking way I can fight an A-rank and all of these guys at the same time.'

[Don't worry, Host. Everything will be fine. Just be careful, and remember—if things go wrong, you have a crew to rely on.

Ryan smirked faintly, his fingers slowly tapping on his thigh, visibly nervous, sweat welled up on his forehead. "A crew to rely on, huh?" he muttered under his breath, eyes looking at his thighs. "You actually said something useful for once, you blue shitty system," voice came slow, anxious yet amused.

Host, your language is dirty as always. (¬⤙¬ )]

And for your info, Host. I am always useful.]

Ryan chuckled quietly. "Yeah, right. Maybe I should send the group chat my location now, just in case I end up getting turned into paste."

[That is an intelligent precaution.]

A small sigh escaped from his lips, slowly leaning back into the couch. 'You're learning, blue bastard.'

The system didn't reply back this time, it just hummed faintly in his head, disappearing into the thin air—a small comforting echo, which he got used to now.

Ryan's gaze slowly scanned the room, a bunch of guards were guarding the entry gate of the room. Two men standing like statues—no movement, no expression, just casually watching over the front.

The air in the room was calm as before, but beneath it, there was something that he didn't know about yet—the kind of tension that made your heart beat a little faster even when nothing is happening around you.

The door of the room slowly creaked open. Ryan's back straightened as his senses became attentive, fists clenched.

A man slowly stepped inside of the room—tall, well-groomed, nearly five-foot-ten inches tall, dressed in a perfectly knitted black suit with a red tie.

His hands buried deep inside of his pants pockets, shoes making a sound when they made impact with the floor.

He had that kind of face which made him look like he came out of a modeling show—sharp jaw, confident smirk on his face, eyes that scanned like they were already bored of everything.

When he completely stepped inside of the room, behind him walked in two guards, both were muscular, wearing the same black suits as him but with black ties.

The man's gaze slowly shifted towards Ryan, he looked him up for a brief moment—scanning him down slowly, expression unreadable.

Ryan suddenly stood up instinctively, his hands still buried in his pockets. His heartbeat started beating faster as his mind got attentive—alert to tackle any situation.

The man slowly walked towards Ryan, stopped when he reached in front of him, extended his hand towards Ryan, a small smile curled up on his lips. "You must be our guest for today," he said, voice low yet soft—the kind that sounded friendly but also carried the weight behind it.

Ryan looked at his hand for a short time, but then extended his hand and shook the guy's hand lightly. "Are you the boss of this place?" Ryan's voice came slowly, eyes fixated on his.

The man let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slowly. "No, no. I'm not that important to be a boss. The boss will be here shortly."

"Ah," Ryan said, nodding slightly. "That's fantastic, I can't wait to meet him." Ryan's voice was a bit professional, trying his best to hide the feeling of nervousness.

The man's smile didn't waver at all, he gestured towards the couch politely. "Please sit, sire. No need to stand for someone like me, we can't make our VIP be in any trouble. It's uncomfortable to wait while standing, isn't it?"

Ryan hesitated a bit at the start but then took the couch as he kept his guard up.

The man's eyes lingered on Ryan, scanning him down—not aggressive, it felt like he was studying him piece by piece.

Ryan sat on the couch as he crossed his arms next to his chest, leaning back into the couch, pretending to look calm while a big storm erupted inside of him. 'This guy... he is trying to study me, trying to get intel. Did he already figure out that I'm fake?'

Host, calm down. Even a single form of negativity can lead you to disaster.

Ryan didn't say anything, eyes were just fixated on the guy. The two guards, who stood beside the man, didn't speak anything. But their eyes were fixated on Ryan, scanning him like wolves.

Minutes started to pass slowly, slower than usual. The only sound in the air was the slow rhythmic hum of the jazz music and the distant hum of bass coming from the other side of the club.

Ryan's fingers tapped his knee in a rhythmic manner—a small rhythm, light, steady, and deliberate. His breathing was normal, trying his best to not let it get ragged. The tension inside of his stomach started to grow more as time passed.

Then came chaos.

A loud voice came from outside of the room. "HEY! I'm the VIP, let me enter inside!"

Ryan's head snapped towards the door instantly, eyes widening up slightly. The two guards who were guarding the entrance exchanged glances.

The man in the suit frowned a bit, visibly irritated. The noise of the man started to grow louder—people yelling, a bit of scuffling and someone was even cursing aloud.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.