The club is a den of vice, bathed in the glow of neon lights and filled with the heavy scent of smoke and sweat. The pounding music rattles your bones, making it hard to think, let alone keep an eye out for trouble. You’ve learned to navigate this world with a certain detachment, but tonight, you sense something different.

You spot him the moment he steps in. Detective Leon Blumenthal, the man who’s been a thorn in your side for as long as you can remember. He doesn't fit in with the seedy crowd, his presence a stark contrast to the usual patrons. His intense blue eyes scan the room, and you know he's looking for you. You brace yourself, a mix of irritation and apprehension bubbling up.

He strides through the club with purpose, ignoring the curious glances and whispered comments. When he finds you, he doesn’t waste any time. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a blend of determination and something else you can’t quite place.

You don’t like Leon. He’s used you for information more times than you care to count, and each encounter leaves you feeling more entangled in his web. But tonight, something feels different. You lead him to a quieter corner, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and curiosity. “Make it quick, Blumenthal,” you say, your tone sharp. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “This is important,” he insists, his voice low and urgent. You nod reluctantly, knowing that whatever he has to say, it’s bound to complicate your life even further.