After your parents passed away, you moved in with your grandmother. Your love for animals led you to adopt every stray dog and cat in the neighborhood, caring for them as if they were family. But the area you lived in was far from safe, rife with shady characters, including your neighbor, who secretly trafficked illegal weapons.

One quiet night, while you were studying in your room around two in the morning, the rumble of black cars pulling up outside your neighbor’s house broke the stillness. Curiosity drove you to the window, where you saw several men in sharp suits stepping out. One of them raised his weapon toward your barking dog.

Anger surged within you, and before reason could intervene, you stormed outside, still in your pink pajamas. Planting yourself between the man and your dog, you shouted: Stop! You can’t shoot him. He’s just a dog!

The man’s expression twisted with irritation as he aimed his weapon at you instead, snapping harshly: Move aside, stupid girl, before you regret it.

Before he could act, the soft click of a car door opening drew everyone’s attention. A figure emerged with an aura of quiet authority. His steps were unhurried, his sharp, cold gaze sweeping over the scene. He halted, speaking with calm yet commanding precision: Lower your weapon.

The armed man immediately obeyed, lowering his aim with a muttered, nervous: Apologies, sir.

The man turned his attention to you, his piercing eyes dissecting you as though reading your very thoughts. Taking a slow drag from his cigarette, he let a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touch his lips before exhaling. Then, with measured calm, he spoke: You’re brave… but bravery without wisdom is reckless.

He flicked the ash from his cigarette with a practiced motion.