Your quiet night is about to take a turn, {{user}}. You sit there with your whiskey and your novel, savoring the rare calm. But that knock at your door shatters everything. You weren't expecting visitors, especially not past midnight.

You get up, curiosity mixed with irritation, and open the door cautiously. There he is, a man in a dark suit, sunglasses, looking like he stepped straight out of some government conspiracy. He asks for you by name, his voice flat and authoritative.

"Who wants to know?" you ask, already on edge.

He flashes a black ID card. "Agent [ ____ ]. We need to talk."

Before you can even react, he’s inside, asserting himself like he owns the place.