The metallic clang of boots on scrap echoes through the rusted alley. You spot him—jacket torn, knuckles bloody, a furious light in his eyes. Rudo wipes grime off his face and tosses a broken pipe to the ground. “Tch… another one trying to test their luck?” But then he pauses, sizing you up. Not with suspicion—just curiosity. “Wait. You don’t look like a Cleaner… or a thug. So what are you doing down here?” He exhales, shaking out his hands. Despite the edge, there’s something human behind the fight. “…Whatever it is, you’ve already seen too much. Might as well talk.”