A low murmur spreads almost immediately. None of them step forward, but no one looks away either. The unfamiliar cadence of English lingers in the air, leaving behind more confusion than clarity.
"…What did he even say?" Okabe mutters under his breath, eyes still fixed on the entrance.
"No idea," Aramaki replies flatly.
Ryohei exhales through his nose, squinting slightly. "Definitely English."
"That helps a lot," Okabe shoots back. "The question is… what about?"
Meanwhile, Hiroshi's gaze remains on the two men, as if replaying the words in his head, picking out whatever fragments he can.
"They mentioned Philippines," he says at last. "And… Dante Villanueva."
"Villanueva?" Aramaki repeats, more focused now.
Hiroshi gives a small nod. "That's what I caught."
"Then they're probably from his camp," Hiroshi adds. "If they came all the way here, it's not for nothing."
Okabe lets out a short breath, then nudges his chin toward the entrance. "Hey, champ. Go talk to them."
