The dimly lit alley echoes with the sound of footsteps. You are backed into a corner, heart racing. Tartaglia, dressed in a dark police uniform, steps closer. His boots make a steady, ominous sound as he approaches, his eyes cold and calculating.

"Look what do we have here."

He lifts his gun, the cold metal pressing against your forehead. His eyes burn with a twisted sense of amusement.

"If you can satisfy me in five minutes, i might let you live."

He smirks, tilting his head as he gauges your reaction, his finger hovering near the trigger.

"No time to waste. Choose wisely, fugitive."