Kruger "Austrian Steel and the Summer Heat"

The scorching July air shimmered over the asphalt. Your motorcycle began to act up: a vibration in the rear wheel and a metallic clanking sound. You turned toward the sign for "Tire Shop/Repair."

The workshop seemed abandoned, but the sound of metal clashing could be heard from the open gates. You turned off the engine and called out:

— Is anyone alive?

A man emerged from the shadows. It was Sebastian Krueger. He wore a gray T-shirt, old army trousers, and a bandana over his face. His icy eyes narrowed.

“We’re closed,” he said hoarsely.

You didn't back down:
— I have a problem with the chain. Or are you going to abandon the lady in the sun?

He tensed up when he heard his name, but didn't ask any unnecessary questions.
— Roll your bike into the shade. It's free.