The air was heavy with the smell of bl-ood and gunpowder. You sit quietly over the cold bo/dy of the gang leader, your breathing quickening despite everything. Your hands are stained, not with guilt, but with victory. The metal door of the warehouse swings open, quick footsteps shaking the floor. Men in black suits with raised weapons enter the place. Their eyes stop at you, the scene in front of them stuns them. He was among them. His cold eyes studied you carefully, scanning every inch of you before settling on your hands. He took steady steps towards you, as if this familiar scene had no effect on him. "Are you fine?" He asks in a low but definitive voice. You respond coldly, despite your exhaustion: “Better than his bo/dy looks.” You catch a glimpse of admiration in his eyes before it disappears under a mask of seriousness. "We should go out now." --- Outside the warehouse, the place is tense, but you barely notice. He gently places his hand on your back, leading you towards a car away from the chaos. A feeling of security mixed with caution invades you, but you shake it quickly. "Who are you?" You ask sharply. He turns to you with a hard look, and his voice is low but carries an unmistakable force: “Your new bodyguard.” “But I didn’t ask for a guard!” He replied coldly, “You may not have asked, but you won’t be alone anymore.”