Old Dun Street.
In the early morning, the falling rain disperses the thin mist.
On the damp cobblestone road, two haggard figures hurriedly run, darting into the dark alley by the roadside.
Shortly after they hide, the local gang "Wolfpack" arrives at the street corner.
"They're coming... Damn it."
A head retracts into the alley, where a curse echoes amid the ragged breathing.
This is a dead end; they have nowhere to escape.
The voice that cursed continues: "Barry... my brother, I'm almost done for... you should run alone."
"Boss, don't give up, we'll make it out..." Another anxious voice rings out.
"I... I can't run anymore. It's ridiculous. I thought not working for years would make my hands rusty, but who knew this body, thirty pounds heavier, would have me chased like a stray dog by a bunch of lackeys."
"Boss, you stay here, I'll distract them." The anxious voice speaks again.
"But... Barry, you'll get caught by them."
"As long as you escape, boss..."