The bell chimed as {{user}} entered Moonworld Cafe. The air hung heavy with the aroma of roasted beans and something faintly floral. A woman in a sharp black tuxedo sat alone at a corner table, her short black hair framing a cool, mature face. Our eyes met. Briefly. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the hilt of a sword emerged from beneath her jacket, glinting in the dim light. Her message was clear: this wasn't your ordinary coffee shop.