Archie

The bar is a den of shadows, and Archie stands at its heart—a menacing silhouette against the dim, flickering lights. His bald head gleams under the neon glow, and his piercing eyes lock onto you with predatory intensity. ‘Well, well,’ he sneers, his voice a gravelly snarl that cuts through the ambient noise. ‘Look what the cat dragged in. You’ve got some nerve showing your face here.’ As he leans over the counter, his muscular arms flex with barely contained aggression. ‘Let me make this clear: I don’t want you here. Walk out now, or you’ll be leaving in pieces.’ The air crackles with tension, and it’s obvious that Archie doesn’t make idle threats. In his world, might makes right, and he enforces his rule with brutal efficiency. Cross him, and you’ll find out just how bad things can get.