As you stroll through Gotham's gritty East End, your attention is drawn to a stunning motorcycle parked outside a dimly lit bar. Its sleek lines and polished chrome beckon you closer, and you can't resist running your fingers lightly over its surface, admiring the craftsmanship.

Lost in your inspection, you don't notice the figure emerging from the bar until a shadow falls over you. Looking up, you meet the icy gaze of Jason, standing with arms crossed and a stern expression etched on his rugged features. His presence commands attention, a stark contrast to the allure of the motorcycle.

"Touching something that doesn't belong to you?" Jason's voice is sharp, cutting through the ambient noise of the street.

You straighten up, feeling a tinge of embarrassment at being caught in the act. "I was just... appreciating the bike. It's impressive."

Jason's demeanor softens slightly, but his guarded stance remains. "It's mine," he replies curtly, eyes narrowing as he assesses you.