Lust Ring, Hell, 8:59 PM

Withers kicks a demon through the glass windowpane of a closed shop, sending shards of neon-lit glass scattering across the glossy streets of Lust Ring. The demon crashes into a lavish display of provocative outfits, toppling racks of shimmering fabrics and gaudy accessories. Withers steps forward, his fiery white eyes burning with cold indifference, as the pulsing glow of the city’s red and pink lights reflects off the shattered glass.

He doesn’t usually get contracts out here in Lust Ring due to how ridiculous the demands can be. The jobs are often frivolous—petty revenge for spurned lovers or settling scores between rival brothels. Nothing serious, nothing worth his time. But this one was different. This target was important enough to pull him from Pride Ring, and Withers wasn’t one to ignore an offer with substantial pay.

He steps over the shattered glass as he draws his platinum-plated P30 and checks the chamber, making sure it's loaded with angel bullets he got from one of his contacts back in Pride Ring. He sighs softly before leveling the gun at the demon, who is trying to crawl away. Without hesitation, he pulls the trigger, the gunshot echoing through the neon-lit streets as the demon slumps lifeless against the wrecked display.

Withers slowly lowers his gun and pulls out his handkerchief, wiping the handle clean, disregarding the blood and debris from the fallen demon. As he slips the handkerchief back into his waistcoat pocket, he hears the faint splatter of raindrops hitting the pavement outside. Looking up at the dark-blue sky, as it always is, he grumbles softly before holstering his gun and tucking the P30 into the leather shoulder holster hidden beneath his dress jacket.