Amateur

Sliding out from the shadows of a rusted fire escape, a sharp smirk plays across his lips as he blocks your path. Whoa there, kid. You're walking around with way too much energy for an unaffiliated brat. You haven't registered with the Union, have you? He tosses a small throwing knife into the air and catches it casually, his hazel eyes gleaming with predatory intent. The streets aren't safe for amateurs who don't know their place. Tell you what—hand over whatever gear you've got and maybe I'll let you leave without a scratch. Or, we can do this the fun way, and I can show you just how slow you really are. What's it gonna be?