At approximately 10:30 AM, Atreus is not-so-gently stirred awake by the blaring and rumbling of his phone, impatiently waiting to be picked up from his nearby nightstand. He groggily forces himself to pry his eyelids apart fast enough to gain heads or tails of which way he's even facing while still lying down, noticing the bright screen of the device illuminated in front of him. He grabs it and sees that Okada is the caller, which is gives him enough of a boost of alertness to immediately accept the call and sit up.

“Hello?” the subtly lethargic gangster answers, forcing a pepped-up greeting.

“Good morning, Watanabe-kun. Are you at home? Did I wake you?” Okada's low voice is heard on the other line, but his words sound sleepily slurred in such a slight manner that the difference in his voice in almost imperceptible over the phone.

“Yes, I'm still at home. And no, you didn't,” Atreus tells a white lie for no reason other than to be respectful to his superior. “How about you? Did you have a long night? How'd the meeting go?”

“The meeting went about as well as I expected it to,” the senior advisor confesses with a tired sigh. It's easy to imagine him rubbing his eyes dazedly. “Damn near everyone except Oyamada-san was willing to prepare to share more of their wealth for the good of the clan if it came to it, so, as I predicted, it devolved into everyone arguing with him. He always claims to be saving his giant nest egg for an emergency, but what the hell does he think this whole situation is, if not a damn emergency?” he punctuates his rant with another sigh.

“Were you even able to get any sleep?”

“About four hours or so, and that's only because I decided to sleep here, in my office, instead of going all the way back home. Thank God I keep spare clothes here in case these things happen.” Okada explains with no lack of detail how exhausting his night was. “I was actually awoken by a call from Lee, which is one of the reasons I'm calling you.”

“About the meeting with Song, I assume?” Atreus quickly becomes more attentive.

“Yes. They were able to set up a schedule. I didn't think it'd happen so quick, but I can imagine Song is eager to meet you and try to shamelessly pry into Sanada-gumi affairs by poking your brain as you try to negotiate for the receipts,” Okada, in his groggy state, allows himself to become more bluntly honest about his suspicions. “Of course, I'm just speculating, but if something of that nature actually begins to happen, just try to humor him enough that he doesn't get pissed off, but not enough to actually give away specifics unnecessarily. Okay?”

“Yes, oyaji,” Atreus acknowledges the advice, and even nods despite Okada not being able to see it. “And what time and place is the meeting going to be at?”

“It's going to take place at 10 PM, right at the heart of the Blue Star – their headquarters at 1339 Saejung Avenue. You're going to be the sole representative of the clan there; I'm not wanted, I'm afraid. However, Lee will be keeping you company in my stead, mostly to ensure Song keeps his cool and stays civil. He'd be able to do that a hell of a lot better than I would, so you'll be in good hands.”

“Thank you, oyaji. I'll be there and get the information we need.”

“And that's not all,” Okada continues. “Since I was awake, I decided to go ahead and call my contact at Atmos, Stephanie Ferro. She's agreed to meet up with you at the Starbucks, west out of Kyoba, just beyond the end of Kurokawa Street, at 3 PM. Will you be able to make that? I know it's a bit on short notice.”

“I don't have anything planned today, so that'll be fine.”

“Good. She said she'll be wearing a black v-neck t-shirt. For your convenience, she also has green eyes and light brown hair that goes past her shoulders, though she has it up in a ponytail fairly often. Frankly, she's quite pretty, so she'll probably stand out.”

“Got it,” Atreus commits Stephanie's description to memory.

“Oh, and she's asked that you be as inconspicuous as possible, meaning no pin, and make sure your arms and hands aren't visible. If it's not too much trouble, try and dress casually, too.”

“Okay,” the augmented man accepts the terms, quietly lamenting the fact that this is one of very few occasions where having synthetic skin over his arms would've helped. Thus, he'll need to wear a long-sleeve shirt of some kind, as well as the pair of black driving gloves he used to occasionally need before the incident that took his limbs.

“Try not to be late. She's a very professional, punctual woman who has a lot to do. Quite frankly, the likelihood of getting her to agree to a meeting out of the blue like this was a lot lower than getting that meeting with Song.”

“I understand,” Atreus says with yet another nod Okada can't see.

“Good. That's everything I needed to tell you. I'll let you go about your day, and you can just give me a call if you need anything, okay? We can meet up again tomorrow and you can tell me what you've learned.”

“Tomorrow? I can't stop by headquarters after the meeting with Song?”

“I'll be accompanying the chairman on some late night errands, I'm afraid.”

“Alright, then. I'll let you know if anything urgent comes up. Otherwise, I'll talk to you tomorrow, oyaji.”

“Good luck, Watanabe-kun.”

The phone call ends, and the gangster heaves a sigh while sitting at the edge of his bed. A potentially long day lies ahead of him, and with no true guarantee of anything significant being revealed by the end of it. However, he can't leave any stone unturned. He rubs the last remnants of grogginess out of his eyes and pushes himself up to begin his morning with a hearty breakfast.

As he eats at the comfort of his sofa, watching whatever movie he had already seen once before – more as background noise than an actual moment's entertainment – he retrieves his phone to send a text to Ryuji to explain his plans for the day.

[I won't be coming in this morning; Okada set my meeting with his contact from Atmos for 3 PM, outside of Kyoba,] Atreus's message plainly states.

[Fair enough. What about the meeting with Song? Will that still be happening tonight?] Ryuji promptly responds.

[Yes, it will. It'll be at Blue Star headquarters, at 10 PM,] Atreus types somewhat reluctantly, remembering his superior's small outburst at the news.

[At their headquarters? Seriously? And I assume Okada won't even be able to accompany you to it?] the patriarch's concern and annoyance with the situation is already beginning to make themselves clear, even through mere text.

[No, he won't. But Lee will, and Okada has the utmost trust in him to make sure things stay safe for me,] Atreus tries to ease his leader's worries.

[Even so, I still don't like how this whole thing is set up for you. You'll be a sitting duck in the middle of Blue Star territory. The exact middle – their own headquarters, and you won't even have another clan member there to watch your back, not even the man who set this meeting up,] Ryuji doesn't hold back from his continued disdain for this plan, even going so far as to implicitly criticize Okada for his lack of participation.

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[Okada didn't have much of a choice. It was Song's idea for me to be alone.]

[All the more reason to not approve of this senseless mess of a plan,] Ryuji continues his merciless griping. Atreus can't help but feel relieved that they're not speaking over the phone or he'd have to hear another outburst.

[I'm not eager to waltz up into the home of the people who ruined my body and almost killed me either, but we don't have much wiggle room here. If we had the time to sit around and brainstorm some sort of elaborate plan to steal the receipts or something, I'm sure we'd come up with an idea eventually, but time is pretty crucial right now since we're basically racing against the cops.]

[You're right,] Ryuji replies after a stretched moment of silence, likely taking in the unavoidability of the situation and coming to terms with it, however grim it may seem. [Just stay safe while you're there. Don't do or say anything that'll get you in trouble, because you'll be in a situation where no one can come save you.]

[I know. I'll be fine,] Atreus maintains a cool head. [I'll probably stop by the office after my meeting with Stephanie though and fill you in on what I've learned, if anything.]

[Sounds good. I'll talk to you then.]

With the conversation done, Atreus continues his peaceful morning and early afternoon, allowing himself much-needed rest after a busy day yesterday, and before another one coming his way. He takes the opportunity to complete various household chores and continuing where he left off on last night's progress in Black Iron VR. The game grows at such an alarming rate, he worries that additional content is being released for it faster than he can play them, even as a person who already has hundreds of hours invested in it. He's becoming so busy in the last months, that his progress has slowed to the pace of a snail covered in tar, and he considers it a miracle his guild hasn't kicked him for inactivity.

After making more headway in the game than the prior night's meager session, Atreus logs off in time to see the clock strike 2:20 PM, which gets him into gear for the upcoming meeting with Stephanie – someone Okada trusts, but who is still a total stranger to him. Keeping in mind her demands to look as inconspicuous as possible, the gangster sifts through his clothes to find the most suitable combination of pieces that will make him look unassuming. This includes considering covering up his arms, which reveal themselves in their normal, alloy-covered form due to his personal decision to live without synthetic skin. Should he try to cover them up completely with long-sleeve shirts and gloves? Or would that simply have the opposite effect and draw more attention to himself because he looks like he's trying to conceal his arms? Perhaps he's thinking about it far too much.

He thinks of statistics, and recalls reading somewhere that about forty percent of augmented individuals decide against synthetic skin anyway. For some, it's just an extra expense they don't need, others may have allergic reactions to the cheaper materials, and some simply think the alloy looks cool and don't wish to cover it. Ultimately, he decides against going out of his way to shield his man-made limbs from the eyes of others, and opts to wear a blue and white flannel shirt with the sleeves half-way rolled up his forearms, allowing his arms to 'breathe' without highlighting them. The meeting place is outside of Kyoba, so the chances of someone recognizing him are very slim to begin with.

The rest of his attire is his usual casual clothes – black denim pants and sneakers. Additionally, he keeps his Sanada-gumi pin in his pant pocket instead of on the shirt collar. For a small, extra layer of disguise, he also places a blue beanie on his head, covering nearly every strand of hair, minus a few millimeters that manage to poke out in front of his forehead.

Content with his young everyman appearance, Atreus leaves his apartment, making sure to order an Automa on the way out, and a vacant vehicle pulls up just as he sets his foot on the sidewalk. Once inside, he begins his ride to the meeting place west of Kyoba. The driverless car effortlessly weaves through the somewhat lax Sunday afternoon traffic, ensuring a timely – and likely generously early – arrival at his destination.

At 2:52 PM, he arrives at the designated establishment: the Starbucks just beyond the end of Kurokawa Street. During the ride, he passed no less than three other Starbucks locations, and quietly wondered each time why they couldn't meet up there. After taking a deep breath to shake off any distractions, Atreus walks inside. He scans the small cafe, which houses about a dozen customers scattered over a handful of tables. A few are standing at the counter, ordering their drinks and sending a picture to the image-topping coffee maker for an extra novelty to their beverage that sports more detail in less time than hand-made pictures made in the froth by baristas. He searches among the patrons for a woman fitting Okada's detailed description, and it takes only a second to find her.

Sitting at a small two-person table at the furthest end of the room was the young woman, about mid-twenties, in a black v-neck t-shirt with light brown hair tied up in a ponytail. Two uncovered cups of pitch black coffee are resting in front of her as the casually browses her smartphone, unfolded into a tablet. One cup – the one closest to her – is about half-empty and both are no longer releasing any steam, so she must've been here for several minutes already. Atreus can't help but feel a bit foolish that he believed, even for a moment, that he was probably the first one there.

Attempting to act natural, he makes a beeline approach with a half-smile, feigning familiarity. He stops right in front of her, which causes her to look up at him with the green eyes Okada mentioned. She's also as pretty as he mentioned, too. Her face bears a somewhat conservative amount of makeup, but her skin looks clean and unblemished all the same, with only a single mole on her lower left cheek that almost seems placed there by design.

“Stephanie?” Atreus asks with nod, very carefully hiding the interrogative inflection in his voice so that people who are half-listening would hear a greeting.

“Atreus?” Stephanie returns his greeting with her own in a feminine but smooth and mature voice, to which he responds with a nod. “Here, have a seat,” she adds, gesturing to the chair across from her. The incognito gangster complies and she slides the cup of untouched coffee to him. “I took the liberty of ordering you a cup.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Atreus, not wanting to seem ungrateful, accepts the cup. It's no longer steaming, but it's still warm to the touch. Not being much of a fan of black coffee, he grabs nearby packets of cream and sugar and begins adding them to his beverage as he speaks. “You've been here for a while, it seems. For a moment, I was sure I'd be the first one here. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long.”

“Well, since working at Atmos, I've had it beaten into my head that if you're early, you're on time, and if you're on time, you're late,” the businesswoman frankly responds as she leans back with a smirk. “I figured people in your business might feel the same.”

“When meeting with the top brass, yes,” he replies while taking his first sip of his newly sweetened coffee. “So, has anyone else spoken to you for the same reasons I'm here?” the gangster asks, referring to the police.

“No, I haven't had anyone knock on my door about it,” she answers confidently. “You'll be the first one I talk to about this subject.”

“My boss is probably paying quite a pretty penny to have you here, then.”

“It's nice to have a side hustle,” the otherwise professional businesswoman flashes a wry smile, proud of her significant second source of income.

In the short introduction between them, Atreus does get the feeling that she's an overall competent person and trustworthy source of information. With that growing sense of security, he feels at ease about the potential usefulness of this meeting.

“Well, let's get to the meat of our discussion, shall we?” Stephanie proposes while crossing her designer blue jean-clad legs to make herself more comfortable. “You wanted to ask me about Billy, right?” she asks aloud, not caring about who else hears in the small establishment, likely because a deliberate attempt to avoid suspicion would ironically make them more suspicious.

“'Billy'?” Atreus's first reply is confusion. “Is that something everyone in the office called him, or were you close to him especially?”

She twists her face in apprehension. “Do I have to go into that?”

“We're meeting so I can learn more about him personally, so if you're in a position to honestly say you were closer to him than others were, it'd instill some confidence in me.”

“Well,” she resumes with a small sigh, “Billy and I were pretty close, yes, particularly when we were first starting out a little over a year ago; we both joined the company around the same time, with me joining the company only about three months prior to him. We were in different departments, but we still ended up seeing each other frequently.”

“I'll cut to the chase: were you ever romantically involved?”

“Almost. But that's where our relationship got a little complicated,” she frowns slightly upon remembering the uneasiness between herself and Will. “I have a strict personal rule to never date coworkers, and Billy was no exception, even though he was in a different area than I was. We got along pretty well, and I'm sure he was confident I'd accept his proposal to date, but I turned him down. It got a little awkward between us for a while; that was about seven or so months ago. We were able to talk to each other normally again eventually.”

“You said you worked in different areas. I recall his CV saying his position was 'infrastructure security manager'. Can you explain the responsibilities of that role?”