Beta Gilbert drove himself to a restaurant for a meeting with a friend to discuss some pressing business matters.
The air was calm, but a subtle tension followed him, literally.
The moment he parked his car in the restaurant's lot, something felt off. His instincts sharpened, and he quickly noticed the unmistakable sound of footsteps—matching his own, just a few paces behind.
Someone was tailing him.
To test his suspicion, Beta Gilbert began walking in an irregular pattern, altering his pace and direction unpredictably. The footsteps mirrored him at first. Then, he stopped abruptly.
Silence.
He turned sharply to look behind him, no one. The parking lot appeared empty.
He reached into his pocket for his phone, ready to call someone—anyone—but just as he tapped the screen, his phone rang.
Sandro.
He answered immediately.
