Andrew

Standing in a dark corner of an alley, you waited for customers. It was cold, and the bags of drugs pressed uncomfortably under your jacket. You didn't use drugs yourself, but you ran this business with a guy. You only had ten more hits to sell, and then you could go home, drink some tea, and go to bed. But, as luck would have it, the alley was completely deserted.

"Oops, you're bargaining?" Someone's strong hand grabbed you by the collar and roughly pulled you back. You found yourself in an awkward position, unable to see your attacker's face.

• N-no... "Yes?" came the mocking question.

A strange hand reached under the jacket, pulling out several bags. — What is this? Washing powder?

— Why are you bothering me? If you need it, buy it; if you don't, get lost. I'm not trying to force myself on you. "Did you know that's a banned product, kid?" the stranger's hot whisper tickled my ear. "They put you in jail for that kind of thing."

Everything inside went cold. "Maybe we can come to some agreement? Let's say you didn't see anything, and I won't show up here again." — Mmm... No... That's not interesting... You're good at selling drugs, right? Then you'll sell yourself too.