Like thousands of tiny raindrops, Nick pierced Alice with questions about Jimmy. She didn’t answer any of them.

Why was this man so important? Alice offered only cryptic responses like, “He will test you,” or, “We need to wait until noon to avoid angering him.”

Nick couldn’t shake the unease. Would Jimmy’s wrath be so destructive it could cost him his life?

Walking along the sidewalk, they neared the red-light district. The road began filling with prostitutes preparing for the night, leaning out of windows and calling to younger men like Nick.

“Hey, puny boy, care for a ride?” one shadow called.

The crude language and sights of this place always dragged Nick back to darker memories.

“Why are we here?” Nick asked, irritation thick in his voice.

“Jimmy likes to be around here,” Alice replied matter-of-factly.

Nick’s anger flared. He had hoped for some saintly figure who could guide him closer to the mysteries of the Human Essence. Instead, Jimmy seemed to be part of this sordid scene. How could such a person hold the answers he sought?

Alice led him into a back alley behind a brothel. The light dimmed, and the air grew heavy with the stench of urine. Water pooled in the pavement gaps, reflecting the faint glow of a distant streetlamp.

The alley reminded Nick too much of where he’d been robbed just days earlier.

Discarded condoms and an overflowing trash bin hinted at the alley's many unsavory uses. A man lay slumped behind the bin, drunk or unconscious, covered in his own vomit. The putrid smell was overwhelming.

Nick’s worst fears crystallized when Alice pointed to the man and said, “This is Jimmy.”

Nick stared in disbelief, his face a mixture of shock and disgust.

Alice sighed, noticing his reaction. “I see you have even more questions now,” she said. “But listen. This is a test for you. You can’t see Jimmy’s ‘outside,’ right?”

Nick nodded, still speechless.

“If you could, you’d notice it looks as bad as it smells. Old clothes, yellowed teeth, a scruffy gray beard, oily hair, a battered hat, and tired brown eyes—though they’re closed right now,” Alice explained.

“How is he supposed to test me?” Nick asked, still puzzled.

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“I want to see if you’re good enough,” Alice said with a grin. “Your master once looked at Jimmy and saw his complete life story in 30 seconds. He said it was a tough one to read, a perfect example of how fast things can go downhill.”

Nick didn’t need more instructions. He focused his gaze on Jimmy.

The shadow surrounding the man began to move, writhing as if in pain. It twisted into cryptic shapes, almost like a game of charades. Slowly, Nick began to make sense of it. A moose. Then an apple. These images repeated, growing clearer.

“Moosaple,” Nick thought. A nearby town. The shadow shifted again, more fluid and complex, like a snake weaving patterns in the air. Finally, Nick could make out the life story of a man called Jimmy Filts.

Jimmy was born 50 years ago to an upper-middle-class family. He grew up comfortably, coasting through school with mediocre grades. His parents didn’t push him, content as long as he passed his classes.

At 14, Jimmy began dating a red-haired upperclassman. Deeply in love, he wrote poems about her beauty and shared them with her. They grew closer over the years, their bond unwavering.

When she finished school, she decided to move to another town, seeking better job opportunities. Jimmy, still in school, dropped everything to follow her. His parents disowned him, furious that he’d abandoned his education for young love. But Jimmy didn’t care, and neither did she.

The following months were harsh. Broke and homeless, they lived on the streets. Luckily, the summer nights were warm. Eventually, both found work—she as a photographer and he as a passionate woodworker.

Life seemed good again. They rented a small, dingy apartment above a noisy bar. Nights were restless, filled with the drunken singing of patrons below.

One fateful day, his girlfriend didn’t come home. Jimmy searched frantically, asking strangers for any sign of her. Finally, a man laughed at his description, mocking him: “Oh, that girl? I just raped her in that alley over there. She ran to the river, crying. Probably drowned herself by now. You should’ve seen her face—”

Before the man could finish, Jimmy grabbed a shard of glass from the ground and stabbed him. Blood splattered on Jimmy’s hands and shoes as the man collapsed.

Jimmy served ten years in prison. The court gave him a lenient sentence, acknowledging the tragic circumstances of the murder. But when he was released, he had nothing left. His girlfriend was gone. His parents had turned their backs on him. He fell into a deep depression.

Desperate, Jimmy broke into his parents’ home and stole valuables, which he sold to survive. For years, he drank, stole, and spiraled further into despair. The locals came to know him as the “drunk in the alley,” a shadow of the man he once was.

The alley where his girlfriend had been raped became his haunt, even as the neighborhood transformed into a red-light district. Now, nearing the end of his life, Jimmy was sick and frail. He wouldn’t survive the winter.

Nick blinked, pulling himself out of the vision. Exactly 22 seconds had passed. He turned to Alice and recounted everything he saw.

Alice looked impressed. “Faster than your master, and just as thorough,” she said. “You’re better at this than I thought.”

Satisfied, Alice gave Nick a sly smile. “All right. You passed. Now we follow your plan,” she said with a wink.