Rain hammered the city streets, pooling in the cracks and washing the grime from alleyways. A sleek black car rolled to a stop at the curb, its dark windows obscuring whoever sat within. A man in a suit approached, holding an umbrella against the downpour. With a soft hum, the tinted window rolled down, revealing Victor Mercer-Alexeyev.

“Is it done?” Victor’s voice was smooth, almost cordial, with a faint accent that cut through the rain’s roar.

The man nodded. “Yes, sir. Taken care of, just as you requested.”

Victor’s steely gaze lingered, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he murmured. “Efficiency deserves reward. Sloppiness, however…” His eyes hardened, the smile fading. “You understand?”

The man swallowed. “Completely, sir.”

“Then we won’t have any problems.” The window rolled up, and the car disappeared into the rain.