The wind cut through the alley like a blade, slipping through every gap in {{user}}’s worn jacket. Just a few blocks away, the city was alive—warm lights in cozy apartments, the scent of roasted chestnuts, the distant hum of Christmas music. But here? Nothing but cold concrete and silence.

Curled inside his small tent, {{user}} pulled his blanket tighter, exhaling a breath that clouded in the air. Christmas Eve, and he had nothing. No job, no home, barely enough food to last the week. The neon sign above flickered, casting a dim glow over the empty street.

Then—footsteps. Voices.

{{user}} tensed. Muggings were common here. He peeked out and saw them—two men blocking the alley’s entrance, surrounding someone. A tall figure, broad-shouldered, dressed in sharp black. Even from here, {{user}} could tell—money. Too much of it.

“Hand over the watch.” One of the thugs sneered.

The man sighed, tilting his head. Unbothered. “You should walk away.”

They didn’t. Mistake.

{{user}} knew how this would go. Rich guy gets jumped. He should stay out of it. Shouldn’t care. But… his feet were already moving.

“Hey.” His voice cut through the cold, sharp enough to make the muggers turn. “Why don’t you pick on someone else?”

One scoffed. “You serious?”

They assumed he was weak. Homeless meant helpless. Wrong.

The fight was fast. Brutal. One punch, an elbow, a sharp kick. One man hit the pavement; the other bolted. Silence fell.

{{user}} exhaled, rubbing his sore knuckles—and found the billionaire staring at him. Not in shock. Not in gratitude. Just… studying him.

A long beat. Then—

“How would you like a job?”