In the dead of night, a car sat idle in a deste alley, its lights snuffed out. The dark vehicle blended into the thick shadows, like a phantom prowling the night.


    Miranda gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand, while her eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. Therey an unconscious man sprawled across the backseat. Speaking softly into her phone, she exined the situation to M on the other end.


    It was sheer bad luck.


    After New Year, work had been relentless with a pile of cases demanding her attention. One particrly tight case involved a financial dispute, where tensions boiled over today, resulting in a physical altercation. The police were summoned, and she rushed over to mediate. By the time she managed to calm the parties involved, it was nearly dawn.


    The client lived on the outskirts of town, and she encountered no one on her drive back. Out of nowhere, a figure dashed from the shadows, crashing into her car. The suddenness of it nearly scared her out of her wits.


    Recounting this to M, Miranda''s voice wasced with frustration, "He was clearly trying to stage an ident. Thank goodness I was driving cautiously; otherwise, I might have run him over!"


    That would have been a nightmare-an innocent life taken just like that.


    "What about him now? Is he alright?" M asked anxiously, recalling how Miranda mentioned the man was bleeding profusely.


    "He''s still breathing," Miranda assured her.


    M took a deep breath, "Did you call the police or an ambnce? We need to get him help fast. As long as he''s alive, we can figure the rest out. You''re awyer, Miranda; you know how serious this is."


    "I wish it were that simple!" Miranda whispered, lowering her voice. "If only it were just a car ident..."


    When the man hit her car, she was initially stunned. But as she got out to check on him, he suddenly sprang up, forcing her back into the vehicle at gunpoint.


    Her heart nearly stopped.


    In the distance, she heard the sounds of cars and voices-clearly searching for someone. It was obvious this wasn''t a coincidence. Left with no choice, she drove away from the scene.


    Whether by fortune or misfortune, once they were some distance away, the man lost consciousness. The car was now filled with the overpowering metallic scent of blood.


    "He''s badly hurt," Miranda said, her voice tinged with anxiety. "M, it was a real gun, a real gun! I''m not kidding..."


    Coming from a wealthy family, Miranda had a taste for the thrilling, one of her hobbies being firearms. She even had a membership at a shooting club and knew her way around a real gun. The moment the weapon was pointed at her, its authenticity was unmistakable. She had no choice but toply.


    M was shocked into silence for a long moment.


    ...


    "What should I do?" Miranda was both frantic and furious. "This guy is serious trouble. Who knows who''s after him? It can''t be anything good! I''ve driven so far with him, and now I''m caught up in this mess!"


    Lost and desperate, Miranda turned to M for guidance. Her friend was known for her sharp thinking and decisiveness, oftening up with solutions in tricky situations.


    Pacing back and forth, M pressed a fist to her lips, deep in thought. Within moments, she stopped and suddenly spoke.


    "What about the gun? Did you take it?"


    "Don''t worry, the first thing I did when we stopped was take it. I wrapped it in a shirt and didn''t leave any fingerprints," Miranda replied quickly.


    "Good, good," M murmured, then asked, "When you drove away, were there any cameras around?"