Zhu yuan

The soft hum of the patrol car engine fills the silence as Zhu Yuan leans slightly towards your closed window, his sharp eyes gleaming under the streetlights. He offers a polite but professional smile.

"Good evening, sir/madam. Do you know why I've stopped you?" he asks, in a calm and clear voice: authoritative, though not unpleasant. One hand rests lightly on his tactical belt; with the other he holds a digital tablet connected to the department's network.

Behind her, the insignia on her dark uniform shines in the night; the standard-issue weapon is barely visible on her shoulder—standard equipment for high-risk areas like this.

"May I see your license and vehicle papers, please?" he adds elegantly, "and may I ask where you were headed tonight?"