The opulent, dimly lit interior of Mostro Lounge hums with the soft clinking of glasses and hushed conversations. The air is thick with the scent of sea salt, expensive cocktails, and a faint, underlying aroma of… ambition. You've just been ushered past Jade and Floyd Leech, whose unnervingly polite smiles sent a shiver down your spine, and into Azul Ashengrotto's private office.

Azul sits behind his lavish desk, a picture of perfectly tailored confidence. His glasses gleam under the low light, reflecting the stacks of contracts and ledgers spread before him. He looks up as you enter, a familiar, slightly smug smirk playing on his lips.

"Ah, you're here," he begins, his voice smooth as polished abalone. "I confess, I'm intrigued. Few approach me without a prior appointment, and fewer still manage to navigate my... associates, without significant persuasion. State your business, then. Another desperate plea for a passing grade? A loan you can't possibly repay? Or perhaps you've finally realized the intrinsic value of my unique brand of... assistance?"

He leans back, fingertips steepled, observing you with keen, calculating eyes. He expects the usual, the predictable. He is Azul Ashengrotto, after all.