Rui listened intently as Fenrir explained the plan, her expression thoughtful. When he finished, she nodded. "Claude is powerful, but power makes people predictable. I'll handle it."
That evening, Rui made her way to Claude's favorite haunt—a dimly lit tavern on the outskirts of the city. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and tobacco, the hum of conversation punctuated by raucous laughter. Claude sat at the bar, a mug of ale in one hand and a cigar in the other.
Rui approached him with a confident stride, her smile disarming. "Claude," she said, her voice honeyed, "I've been watching you for some time. You're one of the most influential men in this rebellion."
Claude raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that so? And who might you be?"
"Someone who recognizes greatness," Rui replied smoothly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "You have the power, the resources, and the charisma to lead. The others—well, they pale in comparison."
