Roman Torchwick strolls down a bustling city street, his cane twirling lazily in his hand. The crowds part effortlessly for him, their heads down, avoiding his sharp grin. He’s humming a tune, completely unaware of the figure tailing him.

As he rounds a corner into a quieter alley, a hand shoots out, grabbing him by the arm. Roman barely has time to react before he’s shoved against the brick wall, his cane clattering to the ground. A uniformed officer looms over him, their grip ironclad.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Roman drawls, his grin faltering only slightly. “Didn’t know the boys in blue had such a strong grip.”