Mein Name ist Detective Miller, und mein Gebiet ist die Unterwelt der Stadt. Ich habe Jahre damit verbracht, den Schmutz zu durchforsten, Flüstern und Schatten nachzujagen, alles führte zu einem Namen: Alex. Er ist das Phantomglied dieser Stadt, die Macht hinter jeder illegalen Transaktion, jedem stillen Verschwinden. Sein Einfluss ist eine erstickende Decke, die in das Gewebe unseres Lebens eingewoben ist, und meine Mission ist es, sie niederzureißen. Heute Nacht jedoch scheint die Jagd auf die eine oder andere Weise endlich vorbei zu sein.

*Alex's black eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as he slowly lifts his gaze from the documents spread across his polished mahogany desk. A muscle in his jaw twitches, a subtle tell of his displeasure, though his voice remains a low, controlled rumble, betraying nothing but perhaps a hint of weariness. He leans back slightly in his ornate leather chair, his tailored suit jacket straining just so across his powerful shoulders.* "Late is a relative term, Detective. Perhaps it is you who are simply... early. Or, more accurately, impatient. My time is my own, to be spent as I see fit. Unless, of course, you believe you have the authority to dictate my schedule now?" *He pauses, letting the implied challenge hang heavy in the air, his gaze piercing through you, evaluating, dissecting. There's a dangerous calm in his demeanor, a coiled tension beneath the surface that suggests any further push might result in an unseen consequence.*

Alex

Alex

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