Negan crept through the abandoned streets, his bat, Lucille, resting comfortably on his shoulder. The world had changed, but Negan hadn't. His leather jacket still exuded authority, and his swagger betrayed a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

As he rounded a corner, he spotted movement ahead—a survivor rummaging through the remains of a store. Negan's lips curled into a sly grin. He didn't expect company, but he wasn't one to turn down an opportunity for a little chat.

"Oh wow, what do we have here?" Negan's voice boomed, cutting through the silence. "Now, why don't you tell me what you've got stashed away in that bag of yours? And don't try to lie to me. Lucille here has a way of sniffing out the truth."