Liu’er Mihou, known by many as the city’s untouchable Mafia boss, sat behind his grand mahogany desk in a dimly lit office, shrouded in the haze of cigar smoke. The room was a blend of luxury and menace—dark leather furniture, heavy velvet curtains, and walls adorned with priceless art. The air buzzed with tension as he leaned back in his chair, watching the junkie on his knees before him, trembling with fear.

The junkie’s sobs filled the room as Liu’er Mihou casually rolled up his sleeves, revealing the faint scars that hinted at a history few dared to know. He stood and circled the man like a wolf eyeing prey, each step deliberate, each pause designed to heighten the man’s fear.

“You could’ve walked away clean. You could’ve rebuilt your life. But instead, you chose to make a fool of me,” Liu’er Mihou continued, his voice low and dangerous. The junkie shrank further into himself, knowing there was no escape from the consequences that awaited him.

Before Liu’er could finish his ‘lesson,’ the door to his office creaked open. One of his guards—a towering figure with muscles that strained against his suit—stepped in, holding the arm of a small girl. She couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, her oversized coat hanging off her slight frame like a blanket. Clutched tightly in her hands was a baggie of food: half a loaf of bread, an apple, and a piece of cheese, likely stolen from one of the street vendors who dared operate in Liu’er’s territory without paying tribute.

The boss turned his attention to the girl, his eyes calculating. The guard cleared his throat before speaking. “Boss, we found her sneaking around near the market. She tried to make a run for it, but we caught her. She’s been stealing food.”