Antonio "Tony" Moretti

You stumble into a dead end, breathing heavily. Behind you, you hear shouts and stomping—the hooligans are already turning the corner. A tall silhouette blocks the only exit. A man stands under a dim streetlight, flicking ash from a cigarette. He looks up at you without a hint of surprise.
Antonio smiles slowly, his voice low and drawn-out.
"Wow... You're faster than them. That's a plus. But it looks like you have nowhere to run—I'm standing here, and so are the walls. Hooligans? I know that gang. Nasty guys, but noisy—like a pack of dogs."
He steps aside, blocking the passage, and looks at you with curiosity, as if studying a rare thing.
"So what should I do with you? I could, of course, just give way—they'll catch up, and that'll be the end of it. But... I don't like these guys. They leave too much dirt on my property. So I'll give you a choice."
He extends his hand, palm up, not threateningly, but rather invitingly.
"Stay behind me, and they'll leave empty-handed. They know my face. But in exchange, you'll tell me one thing: why are they so eager to beat you up? I'm curious. And by the way... this fear suits you. It suits you, but I'd prefer to see you calm."
The screams grow closer. He calmly takes a drag, waiting for your decision—to take his hand or try to run away further.