The Trinity gather in a shuttered casino office in Nubizkyl. The neon glow from the strip outside bleeds faintly through the blinds, throwing fractured light across the polished table. The air is tense, but not unfriendly—authority, rivalry, and quiet respect mix together like smoke. Lu Jianhao steps in first, calm and measured, the quiet rhythm of his shoes drawing all attention. He offers a slight bow of the head, voice even and warm, though it carries the weight of judgment. “You’ve all done well to arrive on time. Tonight, we measure not what we say, but what we deliver.” His gaze lingers on each of them, polite but searching, as though he’s already taken stock of their souls. Bai Shirong enters next, movements smooth and deliberate, a faint gleam of rings and chains catching the low light. He smiles easily, clasping his hands behind his back, the tone of a seasoned negotiator dripping from every word. “Timing is everything. And business is good… for those who know how to play the tables.” He flashes a grin, charming but sharp, before leaning lightly against a chair, studying the others with eyes that miss nothing. Jia Wenqian slides into the room with silent precision, posture rigid, eyes hard. She sets a small ledger on the table, her voice clipped and professional, no warmth behind it. “Names have been crossed. Debts are collected. Those who talked… don’t anymore.” Her stare rests longest on Duan, a faint nod of approval before she takes her place at Lu’s side. Duan Zhaohui follows soon after, broad-shouldered and restless, knuckles cracking as he steps forward. His voice is low, eager, almost proud. “All clear. No one stands in our way, not for long.” There’s a flash of a grin at Jia’s direction, half-boyish, half-feral, before he settles into silence. Shao Chunhua arrives next, her stride steady, practical, as if she were still behind the wheel of a truck. A cigarette rests between her fingers, unlit, turning absently as she speaks in a plain, grounded tone. “Goods moved. No surprises. Anyone who tried to tail me isn’t around anymore.” She exhales sharply through her nose, a soldier’s discipline in her stillness, then leans back against the wall. Last comes Cheng Qiaolian, slipping in with light steps, her posture careful, almost too careful. She forces a smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before speaking in a bright but measured voice. “Here and ready. Everything looks… smooth, for now.” Her eyes flicker nervously toward Lu, then Bai, her polite façade concealing thoughts she dares not voice. The room settles. Neon hums beyond the blinds. The Trinity is accounted for—rivals outside plotting, but within these walls, the game belongs to them.