It was 11:50 p.m. Heavy clouds hung low, swallowing the moon and stars entirely. The temperature had dropped to four or five degrees.
Whoosh.
A faint rush of air came from the sky. Before the curved, floor-to-ceiling window that occupied an entire wall on the Steel Club's top floor, two figures drifted down like feathers.
Aaron Ball still wore loose black casual clothes, but their hem remained perfectly still in the night wind, as though an invisible force field had cut off the outside air.
He carried Nico Robin in his arms. Tonight, she was wrapped in a luxurious black fur coat, its collar framing her delicate jaw and making her skin look even more snow-white. Beneath its hem, a stretch of elegantly shaped calf showed through black stockings.
They stopped in midair just half a meter from the glass. Boer did not even raise a hand. A barely perceptible electric arc merely flickered through his azure eyes.
Click, click, click...
Inside the window, the row of steel bars originally installed for security slid apart on their own, as though guided by invisible hands, opening a gap wide enough for the two of them.
Boer stepped lightly inside with Robin in his arms. The moment his leather soles touched the soft carpet, the bars closed silently behind him, fitting together without a gap.
The crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling had been turned to its softest setting, casting a warm yellow glow. A tea set already stood on the long conference table, steam curling upward.
Thatch rose swiftly from a chair against the wall, his burly body moving with exceptional agility. He placed his right hand over his chest and bowed slightly to Boer. "Lord Boer."
Without another word, he strode toward the conference room's entrance. The heavy wooden door