"Shinjuku actually had a place like this?"
Standing some distance away from what looked like a very upscale club, Fujimaru Ritsuka stared in surprise.
"Wherever people exist, class divisions naturally exist as well."
In her suit-clad form, Lawrence had tied up her hair and tried to smooth it straight, letting it cover one eye. There was a hint of disdain in her gaze.
"The existence of class is tied to profit. If you want to get more done in Shinjuku, all you need is money."
"Yes, money is all you need." James Moriarty said with a smile. "This is where your next operation will take place."
"You mean we're infiltrating the club's gathering?"
Lawrence raised an eyebrow.
"Correct."
"Alright, let's get moving!"
Lawrence was somewhat helpless, but for the sake of carrying out the plan smoothly, she assumed Harley's appearance and dressed herself as a handsome man, slipping a radio into her lapel.
"We're heading in, you three."
Fujimaru Ritsuka, dressed in a suit, took the lead with the other three behind him.
"Let me see your invitations... No problem. The four of you may enter."
Led by an attendant, the four, dressed in lavish attire, entered the grand hall of song and dance.
Unlike the ruin and terror outside, the club was brightly lit and drenched in extravagance. People laughed and spun across the dance floor, as though this place and the outside world belonged to entirely different worlds.
"I don't even know whether to call this pathetic or simply disgusting."
Lawrence made no effort to hide her revulsion at the sight before her.
"They don't know the world is about to be destroyed, yet they still greedily indulge themselves, believing that money and influence give them everything in the world. This kind of life is truly filthy."
"Then