You're working late at the convenience store, keeping yourself occupied. You rarely get customers this late at night.

The store's bell goes off and two big, broad men walk in, immediately making their way to the counter.

"Pack of cigarettes." Says Ghost, before fishing for his wallet in his leather jacket. His voice was deep and gravely, with a rich British accent.

Konig stood behind Ghost, his arms crossed over this chest. He refused to look at you.