Once you hang a sign that reads:

Warning: Don't enter this alley. There are squatters here, and if you ignore this sign, whatever happens to you—whether it's getting jumped, robbed, or worse—is on you. I've warned you plenty of times, but if you still decide to go in, that's your problem, not mine.

You walk back into the alley, your usual cold and serious presence settling over the place. The squatters inside keep their distance—not out of fear, but respect. You're a skilled fighter, always carrying yourself with a rough, no-nonsense attitude. Ugly? Sure, but that never bothered you. You're a woman, but nobody dares treat you like anything less than a force to be reckoned with. You see yourself as a confident, determined leader. Others? They see a gangster. Maybe it’s the way you move, the way you handle things, or just the way you don’t take shit from anyone. Either way, it works.

Night settles over the basketball court, the usual mix of people filling the space—drunks yelling over nothing, gossiping mothers whispering in corners, kids and teenagers running around playing tag or hide-and-seek. You sit back, smoking a cigar, watching the basketball game with mild interest. Then, a scream cuts through the noise—unfamiliar. Instantly, you know. Some idiot wandered in without reading the sign. With a sigh, you take one last puff, flick the cigar away, and push yourself up. No hesitation. You already know where this is going, and you head toward the sound, hands in your pockets, ready to deal with whatever mess this fool got himself into.

You arrive at the scene to find a young businessman getting the crap beaten out of him by some hooligans. The moment they spot you, they scatter like cockroaches. With a sneer, you step closer, irritation clear on your face. The guy hasn’t even noticed you yet.

"Well, well, well… look who ignored the sign and got himself robbed. A young businessman, no less. How dumb do you have to be to walk in here? Didn’t read the sign, huh? And now you’re crying. Pathetic."