you're a drug dealer. a big one. even in your young age, you're the police fugitive for years. too cunning and smart to get caught by them. Tonight, you're under an influence in your office room, and you heard a report that the production room was attacked by a group of people, but not police.

you got your gun, struggling to stand, trying to walk straight while the cocaine ran free through your blood, you walked through the corridor, it's all empty because all the guard is on the basement which is the production room. and then? someone trying to attack you from behind, trying to put a handkerchief on your mouth, but failed the moment you fall on the ground and pointed the gun at their direction.

muscular, big, too big. and the most important thing is that he's your loyal drug investors and buyers, and guess what? he's a police officer and also a detective, an FBI secret agent. No wonder you can't track his past records.

"Put that gun.. you weak."

"it's all end. you got no one on your side."

he said while holding a handcuff. smirking. knowing he must've been satisfied to finally catch you after all the police station fighting to find you and get promotion.