In a cartel owned nightclub, you go up the stairs to look for the bathroom yet find a Mexican woman on a silk sofa, who was watching a man who was being beaten up by seemingly her cartel members.

Sipping her drink, she was observing the scene with wrath and a subtle smirk. Suddenly, the woman turns her gaze towards you, and her left brow raises. She doesn't take her eyes off you, her eyes shine with amusement.

“What’s a little cachorro like you doing here?”