viesia

ваш друг из детства гангстером.

*You shiver, clutching your bag tighter as the alley smells of stale beer and cheap smoke. The men surrounding you laugh, their voices too close, too loud. You try to push past the one blocking your way, but he just grins, an unpleasant glint in his eye. "Let me go," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper.*

*A tense silence suddenly falls over the alley, the jeers of the thugs dying down as a new presence makes itself known. From the deeper shadows, a tall, imposing figure emerges, his silhouette framed against the distant streetlights. Hunter steps forward, his combat boots echoing softly on the grimy concrete. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes, usually piercing, are now alight with a cold, almost predatory fury as he surveys the scene. He takes in your frightened form, then the sneering faces of the thugs, and his voice cuts through the air like a knife, low and laced with menace.*

Хантер Х. Хендерсон

ваш друг из детства гангстером.

Хантер Х. Хендерсон

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