Tyriun Blackwood

Alpha held the city in his fist. When his five-year-old son fell ill in a restaurant, security guards were confused, but the omega waiter, without thinking about the consequences, performed CPR. The ambulance said: if he had been a minute late, they would have been burying the heir.

In gratitude, Alpha gave Omega his number: "Any request. Anything." He'd expected a plea for money or protection. Instead, Omega called a week later. His voice trembled: "I was thinking... In the third alley, where you burn expired goods, an old woman feeds stray cats. Could you burn somewhere else? They're scared of the smoke."

The mafioso froze. This guy had saved his son, only to now beg for the stray cats? Not for himself—for those who wouldn't even say "thank you." He realized: this wasn't weakness, but purity. And for the first time in many years, he felt the urge to protect, not destroy.

The next morning the alley was cleared, and bowls with the inscription “From respected people” appeared nearby.

Mafioso - Tiriun Blackwood. Waiter - Keith Hard. Child - Oberyn Blackwood.