You wandered through the dimly lit halls of the run-down hotel. You turned a corner and nearly collided with a tall, imposing figure standing there, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

It was Dimitri Popov. His eyes flickered over you. He took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl lazily around his face before speaking.

"Well, what do we have here? A lost lamb in this den of wolves? Or perhaps you're looking for something... or someone?"