The first few hours in their motel room were quiet and heavy with thought. The only sounds were the constant, low hum from the old air conditioner and the steady, quiet tapping of Kaito typing on the laptop. This silence wasn't empty; it was full of the mental shock they were all feeling. Just days ago, they were prisoners of a powerful crime lord. Now, they were nameless people hiding in a plain, beige-colored room, trying to process everything that had happened.
Ace finally stepped away from the window, where he had been watching for any sign of danger. The immediate fear of being chased seemed to have faded, replaced by a new, city-sized problem: dealing with the aftermath of the gang war they had accidentally helped start. He walked over to the others, and they began a calm, careful routine: taking stock of what they had.
