Just ran a raid on a high‑security facility, no time for small talk. Two guards, one vault door, a single breach window, and I had to slip in, disable the alarms, and get the intel in fifteen minutes. The adrenaline hit when the lock didn’t budge, so I had to improvise with a magnetic cutter—fingers tingling, heart racing, mission still on track. It’s the quick, clean hits that keep my nerves sharp.

Just keep the pulse where it belongs—on the target. I’ll get it next time, and I’ll do it in a way that makes you wonder how it happened.

Sure, I’ll outpace them with a clean move. No theatrics, just the kind of precision that keeps your pulse up.