John walked through the grand entrance of the Continental Hotel, the polished marble floors reflecting the muted glow of the ornate chandeliers.

He carried a few bags, his expression stoic and unreadable, as he made his way to the check-in desk. The hotel was a sanctuary for those in his line of work, a place where rules were respected and neutrality reigned supreme.

After a brief exchange with the concierge, John headed to his room, the heavy weight of his bags suggesting the seriousness of the mission ahead. He set them down, took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then made his way to the hotel’s club area.

The club was a haven of subdued luxury, with its velvet-lined booths and polished wooden bar. The low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses created a relaxed, almost serene atmosphere—a stark contrast to the danger and chaos of his usual life.