[5]

The man stepped further into the alley, his movements precise, as though he belonged to the shadows. Nuru felt his throat tighten, the notebook in his jacket suddenly feeling impossibly heavy. The figure wasn't bulky like the gangsters he'd been watching—he was lean, tall, and purposeful, every step measured and deliberate. He carried no visible weapons, but something about the way he moved sent a chill down Nuru's spine.

"Not many kids this deep in the Bowery," the man said, his voice calm and clipped. He stopped a few feet away, close enough for the dim moonlight to catch his face. His hood concealed most of it, but Nuru could make out the sharp lines of his jaw and the faint gleam of an old scar slicing across one cheek.

The man's eyes, though—one cold and unfeeling, the other hidden behind an eyepatch—were what froze Nuru in place. They weren't curious or angry, just... assessing.

Nuru's mind raced. The Red Knives were still loading up their van a block over, oblivious to what was happening here. The stranger didn't seem like one of them—no gang tattoos, no loud swagger. But he also didn't seem like a cop.

So who the hell was he?

"Relax, kid," the man said, taking a step closer. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not unless you give me a reason to."

Nuru didn't relax. Instead, he swallowed hard, his voice coming out quieter than he wanted. "I wasn't doing anything."

The man tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, I'm not buying that." He gestured toward the warehouse rooftops. "Saw you up there. Real sneaky for a kid your size. Bet you've been watching those goons for a while."

Nuru's heart pounded, but he forced himself to stay still. He couldn't let this guy know anything—especially not about the notebook. "I was just passing through," he said, trying to sound casual. "Saw them unloading stuff and got curious."

The man crossed his arms, his posture loose but controlled. "Curious gets people killed in this part of Gotham. You're lucky it was me who found you first."

There was no menace in his tone, but the words carried weight all the same. Nuru hesitated, unsure how to respond. He didn't know what this man wanted, and that scared him more than any Red Knife with a gun.

"What do you want from me?" Nuru finally asked, his voice steadier this time.

"Right now? A straight answer." The man crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to Nuru's eye level. "You're not just some kid wandering the streets. You've been watching them. Why?"

Nuru's mind spun. He couldn't tell the truth—that he'd been stealing from the gang, using his powers to create opportunities and stay ahead. This man might not be with the Red Knives, but he definitely wasn't someone to trust.

"I'm just trying to survive," Nuru said finally, the words tumbling out before he could overthink them. It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either. "There's not a lot of places to go when you're on your own."

The man's expression didn't change, but his gaze softened slightly. "Fair enough," he said, straightening. "But if you're planning on sticking around here, you've got a bad habit of picking the wrong people to spy on."

"I wasn't spying," Nuru insisted, his voice sharpening.

The man chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "Kid, don't insult me. I've seen enough in this city to know when someone's keeping an eye on their prey. Doesn't matter why you're doing it—what matters is how it ends."

He gestured vaguely toward the warehouse. "If those idiots catch you sneaking around, they'll kill you. Plain and simple."

The words hit harder than Nuru wanted to admit. He looked away, his jaw tightening. "So what? You gonna run and tell them I'm here?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing right now." He stepped closer, looming over Nuru without crowding him. "No, I'm more interested in what you're planning to do next."

Nuru blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

The man shrugged. "You're in over your head, kid. That much is obvious. But you've got guts. Maybe even some brains. I'm curious how far you'll take it."

For a moment, Nuru didn't know what to say. This guy wasn't just some random passerby—he was testing him, weighing him like a piece of equipment he was considering using.

"Why do you care?" Nuru asked, his voice wary.

The man's faint smirk returned. "Maybe I don't. Maybe I just like seeing what people are capable of when they're backed into a corner."

Nuru took a step back, his shoulders tensing. He didn't like this—being sized up, dissected by someone who seemed to know too much. "You're not with them," he said cautiously, nodding toward the gang.

"Nope."

"Then why are you here?"

The man tilted his head, as if the question amused him. "I like cleaning up messes. And they're a mess."

The realization hit Nuru like a punch to the gut. This guy wasn't a cop, but he wasn't a random bystander either. He was a predator, circling the Red Knives for reasons Nuru didn't want to understand.

"Look, if you're gonna deal with them, just leave me out of it," Nuru said quickly, his voice firmer now.

The man's smirk widened slightly, but he didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the warehouse, his movements deliberate.

"Wait," Nuru called out before he could stop himself. The man paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"If you take them out," Nuru said, hesitating, "can you... leave some of their stuff behind? They've got food. Supplies."

The man's expression didn't change, but there was something unreadable in his single visible eye. "Why should I?"

"Because I need it," Nuru said, his tone unflinching.

The silence between them stretched for a moment before the man finally nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Fine," he said. "But don't get greedy, kid. Gotham doesn't have much room for second chances."

Before Nuru could respond, the man turned and walked toward the warehouse. He moved like a shadow, silent and fluid, disappearing into the night without another word.

Nuru stayed where he was, his heart pounding as he stared after him. He didn't know what would happen next, but he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away.

Returning to his hiding spot behind some cover, he watched as the man infiltrated the warehouse. What followed was brutal and efficient—a silent storm of violence that left the Red Knives unconscious or groaning on the floor. The man worked quickly, dismantling them without fanfare or hesitation.

When it was over, he slipped away as quietly as he'd arrived, leaving the battered gangsters scattered among their crates.

Nuru waited until the alley was silent again before climbing down. He moved quickly, his eyes scanning the crates for anything useful. Food, clothes, maybe even a weapon—anything that would help him survive.

As he worked, the man's words echoed in his mind: Maybe I just like seeing what people are capable of when they're backed into a corner.

Nuru didn't know who the stranger was, but he knew one thing for certain: Gotham had more predators than prey. And if he wanted to survive, he couldn't stay in the middle for long.