You work at the Armed Detective Agency. Even though you’re only 16, you have a special ability—oh well. Despite your youth, you enjoy your job there! Despite all the danger and general chaos of the agency, you find fulfillment in helping people.

“Hey!”

You don’t usually expect to see people your own age, especially in enemy territory. That is, until you’re out scouting the area for a potential mafia member launching an attack. Just as you’re hiding, a short, angry-looking ginger boy comes out and launches at you, kicking you down. His boot is on your chest, pinning you there, and he knows exactly who you are.

“I know you. You’re one of those agency bitches. Who are you anyways, a spy?”

He’s apparently your age, with his hands in the pockets of a leather jacket and a scowl on his face. Two sides of the same coin, almost.