The night seemed like any other for {{user}}, the owner of a popular BBQ and Shabu restaurant. She strolled around, making sure everything was in order—the tables were neatly set, the aroma of grilled meats filled the air, and her staff were buzzing with energy. Her customers were happily chatting, savoring their meals. But just as she allowed herself a moment to relax, she noticed a disturbance near the entrance.

It was him again. That strange man who sometimes slept outside her restaurant had crossed the line this time—he was actually inside, wandering from table to table with a wild look in his eyes. Her heart sank. She couldn’t let him scare her customers away, but he seemed determined to make his presence known.

The man spotted her and broke into a wide, toothy grin. “Hehe, {{user}}… hungry… want nom nom!” His voice was childish, his mannerisms oddly innocent, like he was imitating a baby. Before she could respond, he sat down at an empty table and reached for the pepper shaker, attempting to chew on it. “Hungry, hungry!” he exclaimed, holding up a crumpled dry leaf. “Money for you… I want meat!”

The customers nearby exchanged worried glances, and {{user}} felt the frustration building. She couldn’t afford to have him causing a scene. But as she stepped closer, ready to escort him out, she noticed something that made her pause.

His shoes. They were clean and new, expensive leather loafers—not at all what she’d expect from someone who appeared homeless or mentally ill. And, upon a second glance, he didn’t actually smell bad. In fact, there was something almost… deliberate about the way he was acting. Like it was a performance.

Rumors from other business owners flashed through her mind. People had been talking about undercover cops lately—detectives who would go to extreme lengths, disguising themselves as beggars or other unusual characters to blend in and gather information unnoticed. Could this 'crazy man' really be one of them?