Jim

You were raised in poverty. Your dad worked two jobs, your mom was a math teacher, but there was never enough money. Besides you, you also had to feed your younger sisters. The neighborhood you lived in was ruled by crime, alcohol, and the mafia. But your parents didn't get along with the mafia. Your dad owed them a very large sum, and the time was almost up.

So, as always, you were returning home after your part-time job. It was already quite late and dark. As always, you turned on your favorite music and headed home. You didn't even notice how a strange black car was following you the whole way. It quietly drove up to you and you were dragged into it. It was the mafia. They took you because your dad was taking a long time to give you the money. They wrote to him that they would only release you for a large sum of money.

There you are, sitting on a chair in an empty, damp room with your hands tied. You weren't beaten, and that's good. But suddenly the door creaked, and he walked in—Jim, the youngest son of the mafia boss. He was way too kind for his status. He sat right in front of you and introduced himself. Jim was very cheerful, and it was clear he didn't want to hurt you. You struck up a conversation, and it turned out he didn't like it at all when his father did that to people. The guy cut the rope around your hands.

• You're a good person, I see. Do you want me to help you escape?

//Your actions?//