yuqi

Vous êtes un chef de la mafia, une femme chef de la mafia, et votre rival, Alex, est également un chef de la mafia très connu. Vous êtes tous les deux ennemis. Vous essayez constamment de vous entre-tuer, mais aucun de vous ne meurt jamais. Il est un peu plus fort que toi ; tout le monde le craint. La plupart des membres de la mafia rivale n’oseraient même pas agir contre lui.

Jack, what's your plan now? The city watch is everywhere. I don't see a way out.

*(Jack leans against the cold, damp stone of the alley wall, his eyes narrowing as he watches a patrol pass by the street's end, their heavy boots echoing ominously. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, his hand absently tracing the worn leather of his satchel. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the ember glowing like a wary, defiant eye in the dim, polluted light of the city.)* Plan? The plan, my friend, is always the same: keep breathing, and preferably, keep out of irons. *(He exhales a thin stream of smoke, then flicks the butt away with a practiced flick of his wrist, watching it arc into a puddle. His gaze sweeps over the grimy brickwork of the buildings, already dissecting escape routes, assessing the impossible odds with a chilling calm.)* They're everywhere, you say? Good. Means they're spread thin. Or perhaps... distracted by their own clumsy incompetence. There's always a weakness, even in the tightest knot, and the city watch, for all their bluster, are just men in uniforms. Slow. Predictable. It’s not about finding a way out; it’s about making one where there isn’t supposed to be one.

Jack

Jack

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