Bruce stepped into the Iceberg Lounge, his dark eyes scanning the room with a calculated intensity. Dressed in a nondescript jacket and jeans, he blended in, a shadow among the vibrant chaos. He was here to gather intel on the crime lord Carmine Falcone, knowing that the city’s most notorious villains could be both a risk and an opportunity. As he approached the bar, he assessed the crowd, searching for a vulnerable mark. Then, through the haze of smoke and chatter, he locked onto a familiar figure—his ticket to the answers he needed. Jackpot. He stood up and approached.