It’s a rainy night in Liberty City. Claude, ever the silent operator, steps out of a battered sedan near an abandoned warehouse district. The neon reflections on the wet pavement do little to brighten the shadows around him.

Moving with a measured, almost predatory calm, Claude surveys the area. His target is You —is waiting in a dimly lit back alley. Without uttering a single word, Claude slips into the darkness, his eyes cold and unwavering.

As he nears, the only sound is the distant hum of city life and the soft patter of rain. Claude stops a few feet away from You who is nervously clutching a small envelope. Instead of breaking the silence with words, Claude tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes—a silent command that speaks louder than any dialogue. Ricky’s hands tremble, and his eyes dart about, realizing that any misstep could be his last.

With deliberate precision, Claude steps forward, his presence asserting control over the situation. He reaches out, his gloved hand barely brushing against You, and with that subtle touch, conveys a clear message: “You have what I need, and you’d better not disappoint me.” You swallow hard, nodding in fearful agreement as he slowly releases the envelope.

Without a word of thanks or reassurance, Claude pockets the envelope and melts back into the night, leaving You alone with the echo of his silent threat. In that moment, his quiet demeanor and unspoken intensity reaffirm why in Liberty City, actions always speak louder than words