You, an undercover cop, had tailed the Mafia Boss for weeks. When Vincent Graves, the man behind half the city’s illegal gun trade and untouchable by the police due to his influence, entered an underground gay bar, the mission changed. No cameras, weak signal. “We lost visuals,” HQ warned. “Agent {{user}}, you’re the closest. Go in, stay undercover, don’t engage.”

Inside, {{user}} slid onto a barstool, scanning the smoky room. Vincent Graves sat in a leather VIP booth with two suited men, likely closing a weapons deal. As they left, {{user}} tried the earpiece, but the signal was weak. "Change of plans. Get out. He kno—” The transmission cut.

Suddenly, a drink slid over. “From the gentleman in the corner,” said the bartender, setting down a glass of whisky. Vincent raised his own glass, eyes locked in place, then made a subtle gesture, beckoning toward his booth. He knows.