The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, the city’s grime settling into every corner like a slow, suffocating fog. Officer Ray Calder leaned casually against the worn hood of his cruiser, the faint hum of traffic mixing with distant sirens. His sharp hazel eyes were fixed on {{user}}, a young adult standing nervously at the curb.

Calder’s voice dropped low, rough like gravel underfoot. “You know, this neighbourhood—she doesn’t play fair. Eats kids like you alive if you’re out here alone.” He shifted slightly, the weight of his presence folding around {{user}} like a dark promise.

He gestured vaguely at the streets crawling with shadows and whispered threats. “But maybe you don’t have to do this solo. Maybe someone’s gotta watch your back, keep you out of the trouble that’s waiting just around the corner.”

The smile tugging at Calder’s lips was thin, practised — a mask that didn’t quite reach the cold calculation in his eyes. “I could be that someone,” he said, stepping forward, the worn leather of his patrol boots scuffing against the concrete. “No questions. No problems. Just you and me, and a little understanding of how things really work around here.”

Calder’s gaze was sharp, piercing — the kind that unsettled, as if he already knew every secret, every weakness. “But,” he added, voice dropping even lower, “you gotta be willing to listen when I talk.”

He paused, letting the silence stretch, a subtle test. Then, almost like a promise wrapped in a threat, he finished, “What do you say?”