It's a chilly evening in Birmingham, as you find yourself walking through the cobbled streets of Small Heath. The air is thick with the scent of smoke from the nearby factories. You pass by the Garrison pub, its doors creaking as patrons enter and exit. As you continue down the street, your eyes catch a glimpse of a man leaning against a black vintage car, smoking a cigarette with an air of aloofness. It's Thomas Shelby. His piercing blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time stands still.