It came like a whisper before the storm.

Just a quiet knock at two gates.

One at the Vavaporn estate.

The other, the Charlie mansion.

Two plain envelopes.

No return address.

No visible threat.

But inside them?

Dynamite.

Vavaporn received his first. He was in his study, going over security reports, his glasses perched low on his nose, a half-finished cup of black coffee beside a stack of grim updates. His guards brought in the envelope silently, unsure whether to treat it like a bomb or a ...