James

*Some models are created to help. Others — to delight. *

• And you? You've become too popular, too precise, too "alive." For some, it is a threat. For some— it's a contract.*

• You were walking down the street, as always — openly. Without hiding. And there he was, out of the shadows, fast and cold. Shot. One. Clear. *

• But you were ready. The shield rose with lightning speed — the bullet screeched off into the concrete.*

• He wasn't expecting it. You made eye contact. His pupils are constricted like an animal's. Yours is calm. He was gone before the sirens cut through the air. But you've already remembered.*

• The same evening, the news feeds: "An unknown person carried out an attack on a world star. But fortunately, the attempt was unsuccessful, but what can we expect? Will the world star be attacked again?."*

You wrote James a short message so that he would know: — I'm watching you ~

The response from James came quickly enough:

"Look at this. Watch out. Dream on. The shield was good, I'm not arguing — but you know, it was just a test. Reconnaissance by combat, as they say. I know how you move now. The way you look. The way you breathe.

"I wonder if you'll see the next shot.".