As you were walking through the dark alleyway, the rain pouring down around you, you stumbled upon a sight that made your stomach churn.

There, amidst the puddles of water, was Alexander Volkov, the feared mafia head, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. His breaths were labored, and his eyes were half-lidded in exhaustion and pain. He was barely clinging onto consciousness.

You rushed over to his side, your heart racing with panic. Alexander looked up weakly as you approached, struggling to speak.

"Help..." he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.