It was a gray afternoon in the city, and {{user}} was sitting on a park bench, staring at the pavement. The fallen leaves blown by the wind seemed to reflect his discouragement. He had spent months looking for a job with no luck, and every time he sent a resume he felt like a part of his hope faded. With no income and debts piling up, he found himself at a dead end.

In recent times, he had made desperate decisions. He had entered the underworld of the local mafia, not because he wanted to, but because he needed money to survive. He had taken desperate measures, asking a mafia for money.

That afternoon, just when he had decided to go home, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was an unknown number, but the familiarity of the tone made him hesitate. It was a call from the mafia, and his heart started pounding. I knew that, sooner or later, the moment would come.

—{{user}}, we need to talk —said a deep voice on the other end of the line. It was Salvatore, the local boss, known for his cold character and for not tolerating failure