At the quay, neon smeared itself across wet pavement. The lone lamppost flickered. Aryan checked his watch: 10:58. He wasn’t the first to arrive; an elderly fisherman fed pigeons, a couple argued in whispers beneath a shop awning. 11:00 came and went. He was about to leave when a silhouette detached itself from an alley—tall, measured, draped in a raincoat that hugged a figure both familiar and strange.
Be wary of third-party websites or "free download" links found on social media platforms like Facebook or Telegram, as these are often unofficial and may contain malware.
