It has been several hours since the Xiong gang arrived in Mistral, and ever since, you've all been driving around to find a place to rest for the upcoming night. There was one village that looked promising, but there was talk that they were having trouble with something called a 'Geist'. Personally, that sounded like a whole lot of not your problem, so your gang just kept going. Now, afternoon slowly creeps to the evening as clouds begin forming across the sky, a sign of an upcoming storm.

Taking the lead of the convoy, you drive on Little Bear across a dirt path as you eye the tree line on both sides of you. Much like Vale, the forests of Mistral are infested with pockets of Grimm, some of whom get a little too brave and attack you. So far, your gang has managed to fend off small packs of Beowolves and Creeps. Over time, you've learned the best way to not deal with them is to just keep driving. Apparently, Grimm tend to not give a crap about fast-moving prey when they're not in a mass panic.

That's all well and good. However, you're going to need to stop at some point. As Melanie is going to remind for the seventh fucking time.

The tricked out cop car comes up and drives along next to you, its driver-side window rolling down to reveal an annoyed Melanie.

Melanie: (y/n), we're running out of daylight. At some point, we're going to need to stop and rest, and I'll be damned if I'm camping in the rain.

Her statement is emphasized by the distant thunder echoing through the air. You let out a grown as you keep your eyes forward.

(Y/n): Miltia?

From the passenger seat of the car, the red wearing sister holds a map she acquired from the docks. It is unfolded and almost covers her petite form like a blanket.

Miltia: There's a village not far from here that we can stop in. If we're lucky, maybe they'll have lodging.

(Y/n): How far?

Miltia: A few miles, straight ahead.

You give it some thought and agree to it. You tell them to get on the radio and spread the news as you speed up to drive ahead. Sometime later, several buildings can be seen through the trees as your gang keeps driving. Good thing, too, because the clouds above have finally accumulated enough to begin raining. More time passes, and you soon spot a sign erected on the side of the road.

WELCOME TO
SHION
ENJOY YOUR STAY

How welcoming. You drive past it and are soon croozing within the village, the Xiongs following not far behind. All the while, it is now pissing rain, your clothes are soaked, and you are now annoyed with nature. As you try to make a scowl fierce enough to set fire to the rain, you spot the local villagers going about their day. Some are rushing about with umbrellas or newspapers over their heads as they rush indoors to be dry and comfortable. Speaking of indoors, you notice some locals looking out the windows and watching your little convoy drive along. You assume visitors are expected with these kinds of places, but a caravan of gangsters must be quite the eye catcher for these Mistralians.

Anyway, you continue to get drenched, driving around for a few more minutes, until you finally find a sign that doesn't look like a chicken tap danced on it. 'Shion Inn.' Jackpot.

(Meanwhile, inside)

Today has been a slow day for Paul, the innkeeper. After the fall of Vale's academy, there had been an influx of refugees. Resulting in many lodges such as his own having an increase in business. After that, nothing else has happened. Some tenants come and go. Some have stayed for weeks, others he had to kick out, because being 'misplaced in life' is not a good enough reason to not pay for an extended stay. Beyond that, and the constant threat of Grimm and bandits, nothing else of interest has happened. Paul just hopes the rest of the week will go smoothly so he can get more supplies for the inn.

Suddenly, the front door to the lobby slams open, thunder booming from the entrance as lightning momentarily blinds the now shidded manager. As Paul's eyesight returns to normal, while his heart rate takes some time, he looks to the door. At first, he suspects that the storm outside had blew the door open. Instead, he sees you. Clothes drenched, hand firmly gripped on the doorknob, and a look of sheer indifference chiseled on your face. You soon walk towards the front desk, shoes squelching with every wet step along the way.

The manager, wondering if you're here to rent a room or kill him, simply stands motionless as you approach his wood counter. You finally stop in front of him, water dripping from your everything as you stare the man in the eyes.

(Y/n): I would like rooms for thirty people for the night, please.

Your monotone voice, along with your moist appearance, sort of unnerves Paul as he tries not to sound like a little bitch.

Paul: U-um, sorry. We only have eleven beds left available and can only accommodate two people per room.

Your vacant stare makes Paul wonder if you are displeased with the fact, or if you are trying to think how to best accommodate such a large number of people.

In actuality, you're just realizing you haven't eaten anything in eighteen hours.

Back outside, the twins are just chilling in the car as they wait for you to do your business. They would have come in to help with whatever, but with this downpour, they would like to minimize getting wet. As Melanie simply drums her fingers on the steering wheel to pass the time, Miltia continues to look at the Mistral map. Specifically to the far east of the Anima continent. The City of Mistral... How long has it been? Five years? Six? When was the last time they've met face to face--

*taptap*

The sudden noise coming Melanie's left makes her jump in her seat while swearing. Turning to the window, they both see you standing right outside in the pouring rain. Mel rolls the window down just enough to talk to you while keeping most of the rain out.

Melanie: So, did you get us rooms?

(Y/n): Let me see that thing.

You point towards the microphone of the radio. Not questioning it, Melanie grabs it and hands the wired device to you. The coiled cord attached to it stretches as you grab it and pull it up to your mouth, holding down the button to talk to every Xiong who is waiting for your order.

(Y/n): There's twenty-nine of you, and only ten beds left. Sort it out yourselves.

You let go of the mic, the tension of the cord pulling it back to the middle of the dashboard, and walk back to the inn. The twins simply look at you slack jawed before turning to each other. Before they could say anything, they spot two or three Xiongs from the rear view mirror running out into the rain with a few more hopping put of trucks. Realization hits the pair, and they, too, are bolting out of the car to get their own beds.

Meanwhile, far from the village, two cloaked figures stand amongst the trees, the rain not as harsh in their hiding spot, as one looks towards Shion with binoculars.

???1: This... complicates things.

???2: Relax. The raid will continue as planned. Besides.

The second individual looks towards the trucks they can see between the buildings while sporting a small smirk.

???2: This might be worth the added challenge.

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