The soft jazz music wrapped around the room like a warm embrace, mingling with the low murmur of voices and the clink of glasses. Todd Jackson sat at his usual table in the dimly lit Shanghai club, his cane resting beside him. The gentle rhythm of life continued around him, but he felt a strange anticipation in the air, a shift that signaled someone's presence.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice broke through the haze of noise, melodic yet tinged with uncertainty.

Todd turned his head slightly toward the sound, instinctively sensing the shift in energy, "Not at all," he replied, his voice smooth and inviting. "Please, join me."