The interview

Tony walked into the bustling police station, scanning the room with a keen eye. He approached the receptionist, who gave him a quick once-over.

"I'm here for a job," Tony said confidently.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, barely looking up. "You're kidding, right? You came to the most dangerous city and don't even know why there are so many openings?"

Tony blinked. "Why do you say it like that? Sounds stupid."

She sighed and pointed to a door on the far side of the room. "Go to that room. Someone will interview you."

"Thanks," Tony said, nodding, before heading to the door.

Tony entered the room to find a young man sitting behind a table. On the table was a bullet, a gun, and a stick. The recruiter looked up from his papers, his gaze steady.

"Hello. What's your name?" the recruiter asked, his tone casual but direct.

"Tony."

The recruiter didn't react much. "I'm Will John." He gestured to the chair. "Sit down."

Tony took a seat, carefully pulling out his ID, birth certificate, and citizenship papers from his jacket.

John raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"To prove my identity," Tony replied.

John shrugged. "We couldn't care less about your identity. What we care about is your bravery and strength."

Tony nodded, understanding the implication. "Got it."

John gestured to the three objects on the table. "Now, let's make this quick. Choose one."

Tony's eyes darted over the items—a bullet, a gun, and a stick.

In his mind, he analyzed the choices. The gun is the most dangerous here, but it's useless without the bullet. The bullet, by itself, can't help me. So, it comes down to the stick. But this is a police station… a gun without bullets can do a lot of damage in the right hands. I'll go with the gun.

"I choose the gun," Tony said, his voice steady.

John smirked. "Only a few ever get this right. You're hired."

"Thank you." Tony felt relief wash over him, but he kept his composure.

Before Tony could leave, John held up a hand. "Before anything, tell me why you chose the gun."

Tony met his gaze, speaking with quiet confidence. "I can bluff with a gun. If they're not sure, who would risk attacking someone with a gun, even without bullets? Plus, I can do more damage with a gun with no bullets than I can with a stick."

John raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Smart. Alright, let's get started. Your first case."

Tony's interest peaked. "That fast?"

"Tran Street has a problem," John continued. "There's a girl who's been stealing food from restaurants. She'll order a massive meal, then run off without paying. She hides in the bathroom, breaks the wall, and escapes before anyone can catch her. She's even stolen $20,000 from a bank."

Meanwhile, Aria

Aria sprinted through the crowded streets, the sound of sirens growing louder behind her. The bag of money weighed heavily in her hand, but the urgency to escape pushed her forward.

"You'll never catch me!" she yelled, her breath ragged.

She kept thinking about the money—This will help me find Tony. I know it.

She turned a corner and dashed into an alley, the police hot on her heels. Aria's heart raced, her mind focused only on one thing: getting away.

She wasn't going to let them catch her. Not when she was so close.