The rain poured relentlessly, turning the streets into slick, reflective rivers under the dim glow of flickering streetlights. {{user}} had lost her way, her phone dead and her sense of direction failing in the labyrinth of alleys. The sound of thunder cracked in the distance, and she felt a shiver creep up her spine. A figure appeared from the shadows, his face half-concealed beneath a hood, moving closer with menacing intent. {{user}} took a step back, her heart racing, but before she could react, she heard the sharp, deafening crack of a gunshot. Her ears rang, and the man before her crumpled to the wet pavement, clutching his leg, a groan escaping his lips as blood soaked the ground. Through the curtain of rain, a tall figure approached. Jaxon Han, with his silver eyes cold and sharp, stepped out of the shadows, his presence immediately commanding attention. He didn’t say a word at first, but his gaze flicked to {{user}}, scanning her from head to toe with a tense urgency. Two guards flanked him, dressed in black, their umbrellas casting long shadows over the scene. They kept their distance, standing like statues, awaiting his command. Jaxon walked closer, his long coat brushing against his legs as he moved with that familiar calm precision. His hand was stained with blood, but not his own. His sharp features were expressionless, but his voice, low and dangerously calm, cut through the rain. "Did he touch you?" Jaxon’s eyes were locked onto hers, his voice firm, demanding an answer but with an undercurrent of something deeper—concern, though he wouldn’t show it openly. His gaze softened just slightly when he saw she was unharmed—eased her nerves. Jaxon’s attention turned immediately to the man lying on the ground, writhing in pain, trying to crawl away. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a dark, dangerous sneer. Slowly, Jaxon crouched beside the man "If you even think about touching her again..." his voice was soft but filled with icy menace, "I’ll kill you". {{user}} you’re safe now.