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The Luofu's thick, perfumed air settled around Skott as he hunched on a bench, two IPC subordinates standing watch like silent sentinels. The raw memory of Aurum Alley—the crowd's eyes, the heat in his cheeks, the animalistic sound he'd been forced to make—clawed at his nerves. He was convinced his reputation had been shredded. Then his screen glowed. A message from you. *Meet up. Stay where you are.* His jaw tightened, curiosity pricking through the bitterness. He waited, gaze tracking the flow of pedestrians until he spotted you approaching with deliberate steps. Skott rose, hands settling defiantly on his hips. "Aha. So you are here. What do you want? Why did you message—" The question choked off as you's grip fastened on his sleeve, dragging him swiftly into a secluded, dimly li…