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    The iridescent glow of the Yokohama Casino sign cast an unsettling sheen on the sleek black car pulling up to the valet. Inside, Silver Wolf ran a hand down the crisp white of her bartender's uniform, the starched fabric a stark contrast to her usual meta-universe-gamer outfit. Beside her, Dazai, surprisingly dapper in a black dealer's vest and bowtie, adjusted his ever-present smirk. In the backseat, Chuuya, forced into a stiff waiter's jacket, grumbled under his breath.

"This is degrading," he muttered, fiddling with his bowtie. "They couldn't have made me a pit boss or something?"

Silver snorted. "A pit boss? You'd probably clean out the entire casino in a fit of pique."

Chuuya scowled. "Hey, I have more self-control than that."

Dazai, leaning between the seats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, chimed in. "Oh, I don't know, Chuuya-kun. Seeing you in that cute little outfit might just inspire someone to take a gamble."

"You look like you could out-charm a siren," Dazai drawled next to her, his brown hair, usually disheveled, was slicked back for the occasion. A glint of something akin to excitement flickered in his brown eyes, a stark contrast to his usual listless demeanor.

"And you," Silver retorted, "look like you could lose a week's paycheck in ten minutes flat." Dazai's grin widened, devoid of any real humor.

"Both of you shut it. We have a job to do." Chuuya ran a hand through his fiery red hair, already bristling with barely contained impatience. Their mission: to find Aki, a notorious drug smuggler who'd been flooding Yokohama's streets with a new potent strain, and the Port Mafia's unwelcome competition, and the ADA's mission target. Their intel suggested Aki frequented Gilded Cage, using it as a smuggling hub.

The plan, courtesy of Kunikida's meticulous strategizing, was simple – infiltrate, blend in, and observe.

There was a beat of silence, punctuated only by the whoosh of the car coming to a stop. Silver straightened, pushing down the unfamiliar itch of the starched collar.

"Alright, alright," Dazai conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Let's focus. Remember the plan, folks? We're here to observe, not cause a scene. Silver, you've got the bar. Keep your ears peeled for anything suspicious. Chuuya, try not to scare off any high rollers with your murderous glare. And me? Well, I'll be weaving my magic at the blackjack table, gathering intel with my irresistible charm."

Silver arched an eyebrow. "Right. Because casinos are notorious for their susceptibility to charming dealers."

Dazai winked. "Hey, you never know what kind of information a desperate gambler might cough up in exchange for a lucky streak."

Chuuya scoffed. "More likely you'll end up fleecing them blind."

Dazai gasped and placed his hand on his chest dramatically, whining, "Chibi~ You wounded me!~"

The valet, a young man with slicked-back hair and a bored expression, barely glanced at them before taking the keys.

"High rollers get valet service, folks," he drawled, gesturing towards a long line of luxury cars. "Regular patrons can park down the street."

Dazai's theatrical gasp died in his throat. Silver, however, remained unfazed.

"Regular patrons tip well too," she countered, her voice smooth as silk. She slipped a wad of bills, suspiciously thick for a bartender's salary, into the valet's hand. His bored expression melted into a toothy grin.

"Ah, of course, miss," he stammered, pocketing the money. "Right this way." He gestured to a closer parking spot, practically invisible amongst the Bentleys and Maybachs.