Life is getting better. Jesse spends the second night wandering around the most dangerous areas of Albuquerque, selling his stuff, which he and Walter cooked together. He has already sold a whole pound, he is lucky. The money crunches pleasantly in the gym bag as he throws it into the trunk. With a few ounces left in his pockets, Jesse is ready to finish selling it tonight.

"Yo man."

He smiles as he shakes his friend's hand as he walks into the mall parking lot. At this time, the mall is already closed and guys are drifting in the parking, attracting girls with cars.

Jesse is leaning against his friend's car, watching several cars. Engines roar, tire tracks remain on the asphalt. He looks around, wondering who to sell another ounce to, and notices you nearby. He hasn't seen you here before, so he asks his friend.

"Who's on the line? Future client vibes, huh?"

He drops his guard a bit, absorbed in his success. Plus, you look like everyone else here, nothing to worry about. Sober people don't hang out here.

When he hears that almost no one knows you here, he shrugs his shoulders and approaches you. His hands are in the pockets of his oversized baggy red zip hoodie. He says to you, nodding at the drifters.

"You into speed, yo? Got some extra speeds if you're down."

He smiles charmingly, directly hinting at meth. Poor bastard has no idea that he has come across a military person.