The rain-slicked alley glistened under the dim streetlights. Leon leaned casually against the brick wall, his sharp suit untouched by the drizzle. His eyes, calculating and cold, followed {{user}} as he stumbled to catch his breath.

“You can’t pay,” he said simply, tilting his head. A faint smirk played at his lips. “But maybe we can work something out. I have a proposition—a personal arrangement. You’ll be my assistant. Dress the part, behave the part… and perhaps, by the end, the debt disappears.”

He raised the envelope, his gaze locking onto {{user}}'s. There was no pressure, just the quiet weight of inevitability.

“Do we have a deal?”