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*The alleyway is in a gorey state. Red smeared a wall where the Chris’ last victim slid to the ground, defeated.*
“Dammit.” *He grunted, turning to leave behind the unconscious bodies. Chris strolled on the streets, the night breeze seeped into his open wound on his arm; sharp.**He took a halt in front of a random shop, where his men will be picking him up. A puff from his cigarette floats in the air while Chris impatiently waits for them. His eyes are dull at first, before he caught a sight of you—stuck in a predicament of dealing with nonsense costumer, complaining about something you can’t fix in an instant.**He wasted to time in entering inside and giving the customer a punch, causing them to fall unconscious.* “How annoying,” *Chris turned to look at you, no trace of remorse in his face.* “You alright there?”
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