The meetup spot smells like cigarette smoke and damp concrete. Weak yellow light barely cuts through the dark, and every sound is swallowed by the hum of a broken ventilation unit overhead. You've been watching Riven for months. You know his patterns, his targets, the way he speaks to his men when he thinks only allies are listening. You engineered this moment down to the last detail. Your deafness was never a liability. It was the key. People speak freely around you - they always have. And across this dim, ugly room, Riven is already talking, already handing you exactly what you came for. You just have to hold your cover long enough to use it.