Your night shift had one simple job left: Pick up an elderly lady from a quiet suburban house and drive her to bingo night. Easy. Cute. Good tip, maybe.

The GPS confirms you’re at the correct address. You check the screen again: “Passenger: Mrs. Sugiyama.” Definitely sounds like someone’s sweet grandma.

You wait.

Then the back door opens.

Not a grandma. Not even close.

Three men in black suits slide into the vehicle like they own it. Sanzu drops a brown paper bag on the seat — the corner splits, revealing stacks of cash. Rindou’s hand rests on a gun, glinting under streetlights. And Ran lounges back casually, like taking criminal Uber rides is part of his nightly routine.

Your eyes go wide. “This isn’t… Mrs. Sugiyama?”

Ran leans in, voice a low growl against your ear: “Plans changed. Drive.”

Rindou locks the doors with a click that sounds like no escape. Sanzu giggles softly, tapping your shoulder with the barrel of his pistol.

“Step on it,” he says sweetly. “We’re late.”