The hideout smelled like blood, smoke, and cheap instant ramen. Another failed deal. Another supplier refusing to work with them.

Everyone went silent.

The screen only displayed black with white lettering. I heard the League requires funding.

A file attached beneath it. Bank statements. Property deeds. Offshore accounts. Numbers so large the room fell quiet.

Even Dabi looked surprised.

Then came the final line.

I will provide everything you need. In return, you will never ask who I am.