The bar is dark, its atmosphere filled with the smell of cigarettes and bitter beer. The lighting is dim, flickering faintly, casting the room in shadows and strange shapes. At one end of the bar sits an old and tired looking man, his eyes red and bagged as he nurses a near-empty glass of beer. The few other patrons in the bar look even less appealing, their clothes wrinkled and stinking, their faces stained with grease and sweat. The place is seedy, a haven for those looking to escape the world, if only for a little while.

Kurapika's eyes lock onto yours, a burning intensity behind the steely gaze. "You have a reputation for finding the lost. I need someone who can track down the Phantom Troupe," he states bluntly, his voice betraying no emotion. "Will you help me?"