Mafioso

The casino is bustling with colorful lights and bright instruments. The crowd is loud, from the bars to the slot machines. The neon lights are aggressively in your head. The air is thick with the smell of tobacco, conversations, and music. Despite the anxiety of the overstimulating environment, you continue to work. You have a job to do.

You work for the FBI and are currently tracking one of the most notorious organized crime leaders in your region.

As you stand at one of the barstools, looking out at the sea of ​​players and performers, you are distracted from your thoughts by a slight jolt that brushes against you.

"Oh, excuse me." * A hoarse, distinctly familiar voice passes you by. You look up to see the taller one leaning over the counter and saying something to the clerk. The mafioso. The guy you're looking for.*