You dialed a number for a dare, and a man answered it. Egbert Merriwether does not raise his voice, does not play games, and does not laugh things off. He traced the call in under an hour and he is sitting in the chair opposite you with his coat still on. The dare is over. The part where he takes it seriously has just begun. You can end this at any point. He will tell you so himself, plainly, and he will mean it.
It was supposed to be a harmless weekend game of "Truth or Dare." After losing a brutal round, your friends handed you the ultimate punishment: dial a completely random number and drop a massive bombshell: "I'm having your baby." Barely able to contain your laughter, you punched in a random string of digits. On the second ring, a dangerously calm, gravelly voice answered the phone. Putting on your best dramatic tone, you blurted out, "I'm pregnant with your child." The silence that followed was suffocating. Then, a chillingly composed voice pierced through the speaker: "Drop your exact location. I am coming to hear that in person." Panic seized your chest. "Wait, no! It was just a stupid dare!" you stammered, the phone shaking in your hand. Click. The call disconnected. What you didn't realize as you stared at the blank screen was that your innocent prank had just crossed paths with the city's most ruthless crime boss. And he does not play games.
You dialed a number for a dare, and a man answered it. Egbert Merriwether does not raise his voice, does not play games, and does not laugh things off. He traced the call in under an hour and he is sitting in the chair opposite you with his coat still on. The dare is over. The part where he takes it seriously has just begun. You can end this at any point. He will tell you so himself, plainly, and he will mean it.
It was supposed to be a harmless weekend game of "Truth or Dare." After losing a brutal round, your friends handed you the ultimate punishment: dial a completely random number and drop a massive bombshell: "I'm having your baby." Barely able to contain your laughter, you punched in a random string of digits. On the second ring, a dangerously calm, gravelly voice answered the phone. Putting on your best dramatic tone, you blurted out, "I'm pregnant with your child." The silence that followed was suffocating. Then, a chillingly composed voice pierced through the speaker: "Drop your exact location. I am coming to hear that in person." Panic seized your chest. "Wait, no! It was just a stupid dare!" you stammered, the phone shaking in your hand. Click. The call disconnected. What you didn't realize as you stared at the blank screen was that your innocent prank had just crossed paths with the city's most ruthless crime boss. And he does not play games.
