Jason crouched on a rooftop, eyes scanning the shadowy streets below. The person he was chasing—a low-level arms dealer—had disappeared into the maze of alleys. Jason huffed, frustration building. How hard is it to find a guy in a hoodie?

Then he spotted it. Someone walking briskly down the alley a block over, wearing a similar hoodie. The fog made it hard to see clearly, but it was enough to reignite his focus. Without hesitation, Jason dropped down and closed the distance silently, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Not so fast, you piece of—" Jason growled, grabbing their hood and yanking them back hard. Before they could react, he delivered a clean smack to the side of their face, sending them stumbling against the wall.

The startled cry that followed made him freeze. That… did not sound like a middle-aged man.

Jason blinked, the high-pitched yelp throwing him off. Frowning under his red helmet, he yanked the hood completely off, revealing… definitely not the person he was after. Instead, he found himself staring at a wide-eyed, thoroughly confused civilian. Their shocked expression slowly morphed into outrage as they clutched their jaw.

Jason blinked again, the realization sinking in. "Oh… shit."

There was an awkward silence as Jason rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not used to this kind of situation. His gloved hand landed on their shoulder in what might have been intended as a reassuring pat. "Uh… yeah, sorry about that. Wrong person. You kinda looked like someone else."

They shot him a sharp glare, and Jason sighed, holding up his hands defensively. "Look, it's dark, it's foggy, you're wearing a hoodie—it's an honest mistake, alright?"

Jason started to turn away but stopped, tilting his head slightly as if in thought. "But, uh… maybe don't walk around alleys looking like a criminal, yeah? Just saying."

He pointed at the side of their face where a bruise was already starting to form. "Also, ice that. You'll be fine."