The night was alive with the usual sounds of the city: distant honks of cars, the hum of the streets, and the occasional chatter of people winding down after a busy day. But as you walked through the quiet alleys of Manila, there was an unsettling feeling in the air. You didn’t know exactly why, but something about the way the darkness seemed to press against you made your skin crawl.

It was moments like these when you wished you weren’t alone.

Just as you turned a corner, the sound of footsteps behind you made you freeze. It wasn’t just any normal set of steps—it was deliberate, heavy, and purposeful. Your heart raced, and instinctively, you reached for the knife tucked under your jacket.

Before you could act, a figure appeared from the shadows ahead. Basilio, the intimidating yet calm detective from Trese, stood tall, his eyes scanning the street, his posture radiating both authority and readiness. His dark attire blended seamlessly with the night, his presence both commanding and comforting in a way.

“You don’t need to worry,” his voice was calm but firm, cutting through the tension in the air. “I’m here.”