Gotham's rain always carried the stubborn stench of rust mixed with sewage.
Halfway up the hills in the northern district lay the wealthy neighborhood.
Dressed in a crisp black trench coat, Yang Ming stood at the edge of a luxurious three-story villa's peaked roof. The wind tore at his coat, and rain slid down the frames of his Gold-Rimmed Glasses, unable to linger on the lenses.
He held an aged, vintage cowhide medical case.
From his vantage point, he looked down at the winding mountain road below.
"The politicians in this shithole really know how to pamper themselves. Each one tops the last." Yang Ming sneered.
He closed his eyes. His Observation Haki pierced the curtain of rain like invisible radar waves, spreading outward in an instant.
Two kilometers away, a black stretch Lincoln sped through standing water toward the villa. There were two people inside. The driver's heartbeat was steady, his breathing deep and even. He had training.
The man in the back had a weak heartbeat and shallow breathing, his body clearly hollowed out by booze and women.
It was Elwin, the director of the Municipal Planning Department, who had just issued an indefinite stop-work order for the Lake Street construction site.
Five minutes later.
The Lincoln came to a smooth stop outside the villa.
The ornate front doors opened from within, and a young woman with a stunning figure came out holding an umbrella, dressed in burgundy silk pajamas.
Elwin climbed out with his enormous beer belly leading the way. He wrapped an arm around the woman's waist and eagerly squeezed her ass, making her giggle. Clinging to each other, they walked into the foyer.
The driver stayed in the car. He expertly reclined his seat, lowered the window halfway, and lit a cigarette. Clearly, he was