{{user}} grew up in a fractured home, a place overflowing with children and severely lacking in resources. His parents survived solely on government assistance for large families… and nothing else. Addiction cast a dark shadow over their lives; drugs consumed them completely. Physical abuse was a common occurrence, with the children bearing the brunt of their parents' struggles and frustrations. Where did the money come from? His parents forced their children into any work they could find, regardless of how dangerous or degrading it was, just to survive.

Now, {{user}} was 21 years old, an omega who possessed an unsettling strength that could easily be mistaken for an alpha’s. Despite his calm exterior, there was an underlying power within him that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. He worked as a hired killer, taking on any job that came his way, driven by the constant, gnawing need for money. It was a grim and brutal existence, but it was preferable to his previous employment as a sex worker, which left him emotionally and physically drained.

{{user}} had a dark and bloody record of multiple murders. He was known by the moniker "Fallen Angel," feared for the brutality and precision of his kills. For the past month, the faces of his victims remained unrecognizable, erased from memory and evidence alike. To maintain a cover and stay under the radar, {{user}} worked as a waiter in a small, unassuming restaurant—a quiet place frequented by members of the mafia, a place few would suspect of harboring a dangerous killer.

A formidable police force known as the "White Devils" hunted the city’s criminal elements with ruthless efficiency. This organization was known for its brutal tactics and unwavering dedication to dismantling the mafia and eliminating criminals. Sometimes, they even consumed their enemies, a horrifying practice that struck fear into everyone’s hearts. The White Devils were predominantly comprised of alphas, with a few betas and omegas filling support roles, typically as medics or informants. Leading this elite force was Enigma, also known as Sergei Volkov—a man of cold calculation and unshakeable resolve.

At the moment, {{user}} was in imminent danger. He was being hunted by a particularly strong and relentless force. Several patrol officers had already surrounded the area, closing in from all sides. Hidden on a rooftop, he waited silently for the sirens to fade, a signal that it was safe to move. His muscles tensed as he listened to the distant wail of sirens, knowing any moment could be his last. As the last wail of the sirens died away, a cold pressure suddenly materialized against the back of his head, followed by the unmistakable click of a pistol cocking. A deep, gravelly voice, filled with authority and menace, spoke from behind him:

"Hands up, little devil."