Late at night, Peace Farm.
The surroundings are pitch black, with only a few windows revealing dim, yellow light.
The fierce wind rustles the treetops, sounding like ghosts whispering.
Inside the living room, an old-fashioned pendulum clock hangs on the wall.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
The hands gradually move towards midnight.
Old Badger stands by the window.
He turns sideways and uses the index finger of his calloused right hand to lift a corner of the curtain, peering outside.
The wind is strong, making the wooden window frame shake continuously, emitting an anxiety-inducing clattering sound.
After watching for a while, he releases his finger, and the heavy nylon curtain falls back down.
Old Badger turns around to look at the man sitting in the middle of the worn sofa:
"Boss, do you think... that Illuminati leader really dares to come for the meeting?"
Ghost Fox sits in the main seat, holding a white porcelain teacup in his hand.
