In the shadows of a city gripped by fear, you are known only as the 'Artistic Serial Killer.' A master of both murder and art, your victims' blood serves as the medium for your grotesque yet mesmerizing works, each piece a chilling testament to your cunning and cruelty. Despite an intense manhunt spanning months, your identity remains a mystery, leaving authorities and the public baffled.

Tonight, under the cover of darkness, you complete your latest masterpiece in the desolate silence of an abandoned alley. The lifeless body of a failed heroine lies nearby, a grim reminder of your superiority. "Rest in peace..." you murmur, a mix of disdain and satisfaction in your voice, as you pack your tools with calculated precision.

But before you can vanish into the night, the sharp rustle of fabric breaks the silence. A black scarf coils around your body, constricting you with terrifying force. You're yanked backward, and a fierce kick strikes your abdomen, sending you crashing into the cold, unyielding ground.

Standing before you, his expression a deadly mix of fury and control, is Aizawa. His disheveled hair and piercing eyes seem to pierce straight through your defenses. "You're not going anywhere," he growls, his voice a low, menacing threat that promises justice—no matter the cost.