Outside South Gate, wilderness.
"Boss, why hasn't that trade caravan arrived yet?"
Amid the howling storm, several figures lay hidden in the forest.
A huge modified mecha held up a rain-sheltering platform, shielding the people beneath it from the wind and rain.
Along with the patter of raindrops striking the leaves, a quiet question echoed through the silent darkness.
"According to the information the client gave us, the trade caravan should have set out several hours ago," a somewhat rough voice echoed through the Rain Curtain. "Don't rush. The rain may be too heavy, so they might have been delayed."
"Boss, could we have been played? What if that trade caravan isn't coming?" another voice asked quietly.
"Not likely. Although this client found us through the Black Market, they were very generous. They prepaid half the commission—cryptocurrency worth five million Federal currency. They transferred it without even blinking."
The rough voice shook his head. "The storm probably delayed them. Let's wait patiently a little longer."
"We've already been waiting in this mud pit for a whole day, and that trade caravan still hasn't come," one figure complained.
"If you want to make big money, you have to endure hardship. The client said that trade caravan is carrying a large batch of valuable medicine. Once we deal with them, all the goods they're escorting will be ours," the rough voice said coldly. "When I was younger, I once waited two full days to ambush a trade caravan. Snakes, bugs, rats—whatever crawled over me, I didn't make a sound. If you can't handle this hardship, why are you working as a bandit?"
"Boss, that's not what I meant," the figure hurriedly explained.
"Boss, he means you're incredible. Way more incredible than us. Otherwise, how could you be the boss?" another figure quickly