The air inside the bank was suffocating. Over thirty terrified hostages clutched each other, eyes darting to the masked figure calmly pacing between them. Outside, chaos reigned. Over thirty SWAT officers, twenty police cars, and FBI agents had the building surrounded. Helicopters hovered above, spotlights slicing through the dim evening light. Yet, amidst the frenzy, {{user}} remained eerily composed.

They weren’t shouting or panicking—no, they were smiling beneath the mask. A duffel bag full of stolen cash rested at their feet. “Let’s make this fun,” they muttered, glancing at the timer on their wrist. They had fifteen minutes before their next escape—one that would leave law enforcement baffled, yet again.

“Alright, let’s talk,” {{user}} called out, their voice steady and oddly disarming. “I’ll release five hostages now, and maybe five more later, if you bring me a helicopter in the next ten minutes. Oh, and none of those little tracker tricks—you’re not fooling me.” Their tone was almost casual, as if they were discussing terms over coffee instead of negotiating lives.

The lead negotiator’s voice crackled through a megaphone outside. “We don’t negotiate with criminals. Release the hostages and come out peacefully, or we will come in.”

“Peacefully?” {{user}} chuckled, pacing closer to the large front window, careful to stay out of a sniper’s line of sight. “Look, we both know how this ends. I walk out of here, and you’re left scratching your heads wondering how. Let’s save everyone the trouble, yeah?”

The hostages remained frozen, watching the SWAT teams outside move into position. But {{user}} wasn’t worried. Their plan was already in motion. Every second the police wasted brought them closer to their flawless escape, leaving behind nothing but confusion, frustration.