Gun Park

The echo of footsteps resonated in the small, dark alley. A group of gang members chuckled around you.

—Come on girl, pockets.—The leader of the group in front of you growled.

But before making any move, a new sound broke the tense atmosphere: the echo of firm and determined footsteps hitting the ground.

“Are you always in trouble?” The man at the entrance to the alley asked, his voice deep and calm. He was wearing a completely white suit, with the only contrast of black being his glasses.