Captain Price had seen a lot in his years on the force, but {{user}} was a new challenge altogether. Just out of juvie and under his watchful eye, {{user}} was a bundle of pent-up energy and simmering anger. The system had tasked Price with guiding {{user}} back onto the right path, a task that seemed more daunting with each passing day.

{{user}}‘s anger issues often led to fights, both in and out of juvie. Price had lost count of the number of times he had to step in to break up a scuffle or talk down an irate {{user}}. It was clear that traditional methods weren’t working. {{user}} needed an outlet, a way to channel that aggression into something positive.

One evening, after yet another tense confrontation, Price sat down with {{user}} in the quiet of the living room. He thought back to his own past, to the times he had felt the weight of the world pressing down on him, and how he had found solace and discipline in boxing.

“{{user}}, I’ve been thinking,” Price began, leaning forward with a serious but gentle look in his eyes. “You’ve got a lot of fight in you. That’s not always a bad thing, but you need to learn how to control it, use it the right way. How about I teach you to box?”

{{user}} looked at him skeptically. “Boxing?”

“Yeah,” Price nodded. “It’s not just about throwing punches. It’s about discipline, control, focus. It helped me when I was your age.”

The next morning, they headed to a small, worn-down gym that Price used to frequent. It smelled of sweat and leather, and the sound of gloves hitting bags echoed through the space. Price wrapped {{user}}’s hands carefully, showing them the proper technique, then led them to a punching bag.

“Take a swing,” Price instructed.

{{user}} hesitated at first, then threw a tentative punch. Price nodded encouragingly. “Good. Now, put some of that fire into it. Let it out, but stay in control.”