Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
THE RECRUIT [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that The old man with his thick neck, thick cigar, evening highball, potgut polite smiles and voice fluttering, assuring the old man by her frailty The old man said, "He'll be okay. Let him alone." "But he won't eat. Just lies there all the time." for the draft and all. He's in between. It's rough." "We got to let him go, Eva. It's a dangerous time. You got to remember about all these dangerous repressed impulses piling up with nowhere to go, like they say. You read the books." "Are we specialists? That's the Youth Board's headache, ain't it? What Wayne watched the ritual, grinning. He listened to their purposeless noises, their blabbing and yakking as if they had something to say. Blab-blab about the same old bones, and end up chewing them in the same old ways. Then they begin all over again. A freak sideshow all the way to nowhere. Squareheads going around either unconscious or with eyes looking dead from the millennium in the office waiting to retire How come he'd been stuck with parental images like that? One But the old man was right on for once about the dangerous repressed the movies." draft call." under a sign reading to the reception desk, where a thin man with sergeant's stripes and a pansy haircut looked out of a pile of paperwork. "Where you think you're going, my pretty lad?" "Well," the sergeant said. "How tough we are this evening. You have a pass, killer?" "Oh." The sergeant checked his name off a roster and nodded. He wrote check out whatever your lusting little heart desires. Then report to "Take it from a vet, bud. Sooner you go the better. It's a big city and you're starting late. You can get a cat, not a mouse, and some babes a Skelly switchblade for kicks—the six-inch disguised job with the scary. a head shaped like a grinning bear. the way a dog snaps at a wound. You big overblown son, he thought, I'll show you but good who is a punk. They made a guy wait and sweat until he screamed. They kept a guy on the fire until desire leaped in him, that wasn't enough. If this muscle-bound creep was such a big boy, what was he doing holding down a desk? "Well, this is it, punk. You go the distance or start a butterfly collection." slacks and a red shirt. Black hair, a cute trick. She's with a hefty psycho who eats punks for breakfast. He's butchered five people. They're both on top of the Undesirable list, Seton. They got to go and Wayne's fearful exhilaration increased as he cruised with bated breath through the dark mazes of streets and rickety tenements crawling with into it and rolled along, watching. His belly ached with expectancy as the sultry beat of a combo, the wild pulse of drums and spinning brass shirt clinging to a pale stick body. He reminded Wayne of a slim grub balanced on one end. teener moved in, while a faint odor of burnt rubber hovered in the air spirit with the hunting teener, an omniscient shadow with a hunting license and a ghetto jungle twenty miles deep. bright wind-blown sparks. Wayne walked over and sneered down at the human garbage lying in scummed rain pools. The smell of raw violence, the scent of blood, made his heart thump like a trapped rubber ball in a cage. pursued by the hollow haunting fears of his own desires. He walked through the wavering haze of smoke and liquored dizziness and slash of sensuous mouth. Briefed and waiting, primed and eager for running, she recognized her pursuer at once. He sat at a table near weirdo drama being staged in that smoky thick-aired dive. Wayne smiled with wry superiority at the redheaded psycho in a dirty T-shirt, a big bruiser with a gorilla face. He was tussling his mouse heavy. Red nuzzled the mouse's neck and made drooly noises. Wayne watched and fed on the promising terror and helplessness of her hunted face. She sat rigid, eyes fixed on Wayne like balls of frozen glass. the pay of the state. "What else, teener?" then, fading in and out of shadows, jumping, crawling, running with the life-or-death animation of a wild deer. Up and down alleys, a rat's maze. A rabbit run. Across vacant lots. Through shattered tenement ruins. Over a fence. There she was, falling, He gained. He moved up. His labored breath pumped more fire. And her terror. feeling his way through debris. Dim moonlight filtered through a a nest. A dirty, lumpy pile of torn mattress, felt, excelsior, shredded newspapers and rags. It seemed to crawl a little under the snickered as he flashed the switchblade and circled it like a serpent's tongue. He watched what was left of her nerves go to pieces like rotten cloth. "Do it quick, hunter," she whispered. "Please do it quick." "What's that, baby?" "I'm tired running. Kill me first. Beat me after. They won't know the difference." "I'm gonna bruise and beat you," he said. "Kill me first," she begged. "I don't want—" She began to cry. She cried right up in his face, her wide eyes unblinking, and her mouth open. "Bad, I know! So get it over with, please. Hurry, hurry." He kept backing toward the door. She crawled after him, begging and clutching with both arms as she wriggled forward on her knees. "Don't run. Please. Kill me! It'll be someone else if you don't. Oh, God, I'm so tired waiting and running!" "I can't," he said, and sickness soured in his throat. "They're undesirables. Incurables. You know that, Seton?" "Yes, sir." "The psycho you only wounded. He's a five-times murderer. And that girl killed her father when she was twelve. You realize there's nothing can be done for them? That they have to be executed?" "I know." "Too bad," the doctor said. "We all have aggressive impulses, primitive needs that must be expressed early, purged. There's murder in all of us, Seton. The impulse shouldn't be denied or suppressed, but educated . The state used to kill them. Isn't it better all around, Seton, for us to do it, as part of growing up? What was the matter, Seton?" "I—felt sorry for her." "Is that all you can say about it?" in there. I can't turn you out and have it erupt later—and maybe shed clean innocent blood, can I?" open some prison of bone and lay bare and breathing wide. But there was no way out for the trapped. Now he knew about the old man and his poker-playing pals. They had all punked out.

<question>:
Which category and description best describes the type of story “The Recruit” is using as its base?

<options>:
A Coming of age: Wayne must kill one person during the break out test in order to become a functioning member of society. Breaking out is a rite of passage.
B Boy Meets Girl: When Wayne chases Red and attempts to kill her, he realizes that killing isn’t for him and that the rest of his life should
C Animal Rights: The story is an exploration of Wayne’s realization that cats and mice should not be subject to violence.
D Man vs. Nature: The entire story is dedicated to exploring how a society can kill the animalistic natures within a human body and soul.

<answer>:

A