Momo stared at her screen, her heart stopping in her chest as she looked at the photo sent to her by an anonymous number. It was you, severely injured and on the floor of what seemed like a cell. You were bloody, and barely conscious.

Momo’s eyes repetitively scanned over the message below the image; ‘if you want them alive, bring 5 million yen to XYZ.’

Determination flowing through her, she texted back an acceptance message as she ran to get back-up, then immediately heading towards the location she was told.