Midnight.
Lin Palace Airport.
The sky had split open, and rain poured through the breach.
Gale-force winds lashed the apron with rain, howling like something in pain.
A black sedan.
It glided like a ghost into this deserted stretch of the storm.
Its headlights sliced through the curtain of rain.
They illuminated the Zone C apron.
Kurapika parked and killed the engine.
The wipers made one feeble sweep, then stopped.
Inside the car, the air was even more oppressive than outside.
Kurapika tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
His knuckles turned bone-white.
In the dashboard's dim glow, his blue eyes were deathly still.
The fire of revenge burned in his heart.
His face was colder than the rainy night.
In the passenger seat.
Chrollo was bound by invisible chains.
He leaned back awkwardly.
The turtle drawn on his forehead in marker looked strangely sinister in the gloom.
The leader of these Class A criminals had lost his composure.
Luo Ye's utterly unreasonable barrage had thrown him off balance.
He had stopped trying to provoke Kurapika.
The madman in the back seat conducting "onboarding training."
He was the most unpredictable variable in this whole affair.
"Listen up, new hire."
Luo Ye's voice was lazy, yet it carried over the wind and rain.
He held the dazed Shizuku in place, gesturing with his other hand.
"As the chief director of strategic supply reserves and distribution for our VIP Studio, your primary duty is to keep your boss-me-supplied with snacks."
"The chips must be sea salt and black pepper, the cola must be chilled and sugar-free, and the chocolate must contain seventy-five percent cocoa butter."
Luo Ye counted on his fingers, solemnly listing the job requirements.
"During working hours, no sneaking bites, no hiding supplies, and no depriving your boss of strategic