Before the stern official could render a final verdict on Ryan's laminated corporate ID and Australian passport, a heavy messenger envelope landed squarely on the weathered wooden counter between them with a dull, substantial thud. The thick, coarse-paper parcel bore an official red wax seal and a hastily brushed calligraphy script, summoning Ryan directly to the magistrate's courtyard for a mandatory compliance hearing before sunset. It carried all the unmistakable, crushing weight of an unscheduled late-afternoon calendar invite sent by senior leadership just as one was reaching for their coat.
Ryan stared down at the heavy envelope, letting out a slow, bone-weary sigh that mirrored the exact exhaustion he usually reserved for sudden floor-wide infrastructure audits at the office. With the practiced calm of an events coordinator accustomed to last-minute venue changes and impossible run-sheet revisions, he reached out and picked up the summons. He briefly calculated whether this feudal courtyard hearing would cause him to miss his intended evening connection back toward the station, noting with grim resignation that the local administrative machinery operated on the exact same ruthless timeline as his corporate department.
"Understood," Ryan murmured politely, offering the suspicious magistrate a placid, professional nod before tucking the heavy parchment safely into the side pouch of his canvas messenger bag. Adjusting the nylon strap over his shoulder, he prepared to follow the courier's directive, treating the imperial decree with the weary acceptance of a man simply trying to clear his daily action item queue before the clock ran out.