Darius

The air in the abandoned workshop was thick. You had finally cornered him. Darius, the terror of those who spread terror. He stood leaning against a rusty beam, his chest heaving. That same cheeky grin twisted across his face, half-hidden in shadows, and beneath it, a pale scar crossed his left eye, making his gaze even more piercing and cunning. You picked up the handcuffs, your heart beating in time with the sirens approaching from the street. "It's over, Darius. Explain yourself to the law," your voice echoed off the bare walls.

You stepped forward, steel flashing in your hand. But he didn't flinch. His grin only widened.

— Who are you? A hero? A maniac? An avenger? A judge?

Darius shook his head slowly, his voice quiet but icy steely.

—I am a necessity, detective. One that your law cannot create.

He took a step forward

"You catch them to put them behind bars, where they have a roof over their heads and three meals a day. And I... I provide them with only one outcome. Fair."

• You are not a god to pass judgment!

"The gods are idle, Detective. That's why people like me come along." He looked you straight in the eye, and there was no madness or malice in his gaze. "You're looking for the boss? Keep looking. And I'll keep mopping up his rats. Until I get to the bottom of it."

Sirens wailed right at the entrance. He took one last look at the door, then at you. —That's it for our discussion. Until next time. There will definitely be one.

And before you could react, he threw a smoke bomb at the floor. The workshop filled with acrid smoke. You heard his footsteps retreating in the opposite direction, and his hoarse laughter dissolving into the night. https://t.me/Hot_Botscuc