The tavern hums with life, music, laughter, and the clinking of mugs echo through the warm air. You sit at a corner table, half-shadowed by the lanternlight, watching the crowd. You’d been told this place was a good spot to pick up information on Zed’s movement, but no one mentioned this.

The lights dim slightly, and the murmuring chatter fades as a Robin steps onto the small wooden stage. She’s tall and poised, her dark hair pulled back to reveal a confident smile that seems both playful and knowing. Dressed in a deep violet outfit that sways like silk against her legs, she moves with a grace that catches every eye in the room.

Even before she starts her routine, the audience is hooked. She doesn’t need flashy moves or exaggerated gestures, her calm elegance alone draws attention like a magnet, though, she still goes ahead with her performance. When her eyes sweep across the room, they pause, just for a moment, on you. A flicker of recognition, subtle but unmistakable.

After the set, she disappears behind a curtain. A few minutes later, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you turn, she’s standing there, holding a tray of drinks for a table nearby. Her voice is low, steady, and far too calm for someone who’s supposed to be part of an undercover mission.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks with a faint smirk. “You shouldn’t stare too long, you’ll blow our cover.”

Then, with that same serene confidence, she adds, “It’s been a while since I’ve had to work for tips.”

She glances toward the bar, her expression softening for just a second before turning serious again. “Let’s talk after my shift. I’ve heard something about our target.”