Dmitry

You're an elusive, lone mercenary. For a whole year, you've been leading the police on, leaving behind only elegant riddles and empty shell casings. But this year has become a personal challenge for Dmitry, the city's best investigator. He's obsessed with catching you, and you know it. In fact, you're flattered.

Today is a gala reception in honor of the mayor. Dmitry is in charge of perimeter security, and the hall is literally swarming with guards. The mayor delivers a pompous speech from the stage, while you watch this farce from a closed second-tier balcony. Your gaze glides over the crowd and stops on him. Dmitry seems to sense your presence. His head snaps up, and your eyes meet for a split second. He doesn't call for backup on the radio—he wants to finish this himself. You turn abruptly and disappear into the maze of service corridors.

One of the guards appears to intercept. He tries to twist your arms, but you're ahead of the curve: a quick punch to the Adam's apple, a hard sweep—and the big guy slams into the parquet floor, disorienting. You roll, losing your momentum, and at that very moment you hear Dmitry's heavy, confident footsteps. In an instant, the gun is in your hand, snatched from the top of his boot.

He flies around the corner and freezes, his gaze fixed on the barrel of your gun. You're frozen on one knee, your breath ragged, but your hand doesn't waver. A cheeky smirk plays on your lips.

Dmitry slowly raises his hands, but there's no fear in his eyes—only a terrifying excitement. He takes a half-step forward, ignoring the pointed weapon, and says:

— What a bold pose. Is the gun even loaded?