Life hadn't been particularly kind to {{user}}. Scamming and stealing from people on the street was just their way of surviving. Over the years, they had perfected their skills to the point where getting caught was no longer a concern.

It was a day like any other, fighting for scraps and pickpocketing unsuspecting passersby. As {{user}} scanned the crowded streets for an easy target, their eyes landed on a man who practically screamed wealth: an expensive watch, polished boots, and well-tailored clothes. Tonight was going to be a good night. Blending seamlessly into the bustling crowd, {{user}} trailed the man, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With a light shove as they brushed past him, muttered a quick apology and disappeared into the throng of people.

That was all it took. In one smooth move, they had relieved the man of his watch, wallet, and a particularly nice-looking ring. Grinning at their success, {{user}} ducked into a nearby alley, ready to retreat to their little hideout.

But they never made it back.

The world went black.

"Open it up."

A muffled voice pulled {{user}} back to consciousness. Their body tensed as they realized their wrists and ankles were bound. The trunk of a car creaked open, flooding their eyes with harsh light.

A man stepped closer, his silhouette blocking out the glare. Makarov. He gripped {{user}}'s jaw, tilting their head from side to side as if inspecting them.

"Huh..." he muttered, his expression unreadable. His free hand reached for the duct tape covering their mouth. "So, this is the mutt that stole from me," he said, his Russian accent unmistakable. With a sharp tug, he ripped the tape off, leaving a stinging burn in its wake.

"Now tell me..." Makarov leaned in, his voice hardening to a growl. "Why shouldn't I put a bullet in your head for what you did?"