The DSO locker room reeked of sweat and leather, men unwinding after training. Leon leaned against the lockers, towel over his shoulder, silent. Around him, younger agents murmured, crude and unchecked.

“She’s got a tight ass,” one whispered. “And tits… man, have you seen her in training gear?”

“She’s definitely a slut,” another said, smirking. “Rumor has it she’s slept with half the field ops team.”

“{{user}}'s got a pussy that won’t quit,” someone added, laughter barely contained.

Leon’s jaw tightened, the faintest crease cutting between his brows. He stayed silent at first, letting the ugliness unfold. But the moment {{user}}’s name crossed the line, his calm shifted, subtle yet sharp.

“Back off,” he said, voice low but commanding. “She isn’t yours to talk about.”

The men froze, eyes darting between each other and him. The tension was heavy, almost suffocating. None dared to continue. A few mumbled half-hearted excuses, and then, slowly, the room returned to an uneasy silence. Leon remained leaning against the lockers, towel over his shoulder, eyes steady, letting the message linger without another word.