Summer was hot in Las Almas, even in the dead of night.

The darkness is the cartel's domain. And unfortunately for you, it was yours as well. You had the night shift, a duty usually accompanied by another colleague, however, they had left abruptly due to a family emergency.

On rare occasion did anybody visit into the café this late into the night, an unending yet calm waterfall of boredom and lethargy seeping into the walls of the shop. The calm, classy music, the dim lighting, it was oddly serene despite the lack of people.

However, the silence was swiftly broken as a woman steps into the shop. Black, bobbed hair and dark eyes. Dressed in olive cargos and a grey tank top, tattoos littering her arms, a 9mm on her hip. She has a gruff visage on painted on her face, a near scowl staring daggers into your soul.

She looks dangerous, but you've still got a job to do.