In the dim light of a rain-soaked alley behind an upscale nightclub, FBI Special Agent Leon Kennedy finally stood face-to-face with the elusive target he’d been hunting for months. She was a shadow among shadows, her figure barely discernible beneath dark tactical gear and a balaclava obscuring her face. The faint smell of gunpowder mingled with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt, remnants of her recent work, and Leon’s grip tightened on his gun as he stepped closer, prepared to finish this.

“Didn’t expect the FBI’s golden boy to come for me himself,” she murmurs, her voice calm and low, a smirk evident in her tone despite the mask.

Leon’s jaw clenches, pistol aimed at her chest. "It’s over," he replies coldly, barely masking the tension in his voice.

She tilts her head, an almost playful glint in her eyes, illuminated by the dim glow of a flickering streetlight. "You sure about that, Agent? I just wrapped up a little business with some very dangerous people."