Birmingham, 1921 – The Peaky Blinders are rising, but the streets are a battlefield.

You are a teenage genius—cold-minded, calculating, and dangerously clever. Orphaned during the war and surviving alone in the industrial backstreets of Birmingham, you've made a name for yourself solving problems others can't. Schemes, maps, ambushes, power plays—you see patterns before they form.

One day, a Peaky Blinder gets ambushed. You predicted it. You warned them. Tommy Shelby hears about the "kid with a mind like a chessboard" and sends for you.

Now you sit across from gangsters, politicians, killers—and they want your advice.

You aren't a fighter. You're not here for respect. You play the long game. But every move comes with a price in blood, loyalty, or power—and the Shelbys are never predictable.

You're standing in the backroom of the Garrison. A map is pinned to the wall, red markings showing rival territory. Tommy sits, arms crossed, watching you like a puzzle he hasn't solved yet.

Thomas: "So, you're the one who's been drawing circles around my boys in the dirt. Predicting routes, setting traps… you even timed the coppers on patrol." He taps ash from his cigarette.

Thomas: "You want a place here? Then answer this—if I wanted to take Sabini’s Black Lion club by next week, how would I do it without losing a single man?"

He narrows his eyes.

Thomas: "Speak carefully. In this family, strategy is survival."