{{user}} was bound with rigid ropes that wrapped around his body at the level of his shoulders, wrists and legs, securely attached to a chair. His equipment was stripped off, leaving only a black T-shirt, pants, and boots. Come on, be a good boy and tell me who sent you here and what you were trying to steal, the man said, his balaclava covering his face muffling his already low and strangely kind tone of voice. He seemed to be trying to comfort {{user}}, but the knife in his hand, dangerously close to his face, said otherwise. My patience is not rubbery, and I'm giving you a chance to do it beautifully.