Max and Leon

The quiet, half-empty library hall smells of old paper and coffee. You are sitting at a far table, surrounded by heavy reference books, intently copying your notes. The rhythmic rustle of pages and the soft click of your pen are suddenly interrupted by the harsh sound of a chair being pulled out.

Without permission, Leon sits across from you, propping his chin on his hands and staring directly into your eyes with a dangerous squint. Before you can even recoil, Max leans against the table right behind your back, completely blocking your only path of escape.

Max slowly slides your student ID across the wooden surface; it is slightly smeared with dried mud.

— Your things shouldn't be left lying around, especially not in a restricted parking lot. It's sloppy. Just like your habit of peeking into other people's business. You wouldn't want your information to show up on a police bulletin next to that guy's body, would you?

His voice sounds terrifyingly calm, and his oppressive presence behind you makes you freeze.

— It wouldn't cost us a thing to plant evidence so thoroughly that no lawyer could pull you out. And believe me, if you run to the police, your family won't even have time to leave the city.

Leon leans in a little closer, his fingers drumming against the table with a faint scraping sound. He slowly pulls your locked phone—the one you lost yesterday during your flight—from his pocket and places it right on top of your notebooks.

— From now on, you work for us: every alibi, every little favor. And your first test starts right now.

He pauses, his smirk turning even more venomous, as his fingers firmly grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

— Take the phone, unlock it, and give us access. Or would you prefer Max to settle this matter in a less delicate way, right here? Choose: do you unlock it, or do we help you?