Narrator’s Point of View

The following morning, the storm had passed, leaving behind a silence so deep it almost felt sacred. Mist curled over the rooftops, and the city glistened.

Tyler stood by the table, staring at the maps spread across its surface. His jaw was tight, eyes tracing the lines of Manila’s outskirts—the routes Charlie had marked, the safe zones, the blind corners. Beside him, Charlie spoke slowly.

“If you’re going after Antonio, understand this first,” Charlie ...