The light rain outside the main office of Northwind Logistics gradually faded into a steady, cold drizzle. Inside the second-floor director’s office, a single desk lamp cast a warm, golden glow across the dark wood.Adrian sat behind the heavy desk that had belonged to Director Thomas for forty years. Before him lay the Black Book—a thick, leather-bound volume whose pages seemed to absorb the light. On his right index finger, the dark iron Sovereign Ring gleamed softly, pulsing with a faint warmth whenever his skin made contact with the ancient paper.Winston stood near the tall glass window, his polished mahogany cane resting lightly against his knee. Director Thomas stood respectfully on the other side of the desk, his calloused hands clasped in front of his faded blue uniform."Young Master," Winston began smoothly, breaking the quiet hum of the room. "The arrest of Haryo Prasetyo and the seizure of Ironclad’s local assets have secured Pier 14 for the time being. However, we must b