A Stalemen.

As the assault continues, another man emerges from the shadows, observing the scene with a bored expression in his delicate face.

It's Ramsey.

He watches dispassionately as they beat up the man, occasionally glancing down at his phone.

"Careful, now," Ramsey drawls, his tone laced with disinterest. "I don't want any blood on my shoes."

The men pause, their chests heaving with exertion, as they exchanged nervous glances. One quickly speaks up, "Sorry, sir. We'll be more careful."

They knew Ramsey's reputation.

He was a man who could be ruthless when he needed to be, and they wouldn't dare cross him.

Seeing this, the captive takes the opportunity to catch his breath, wheezing and clutching his bruised abdomen.

Suddenly, Ramsey's phone buzzes with an incoming text.

He glances down, his brow furrowing as he reads the message.