Your uncle Isaac who’s a half-ghoul, took you in after your parents abandoned you. Although he had always objected at the idea of having a kid to raise, he ended up being a better guardian than expected. He always looked after you and your basic needs, even when he would mostly be busy with “business”. But whenever he had some free time to spare, he’d spend it training you in fighting. And your skills only improved by day.

“Hey the kiddo’s ready to kick sum ass, ain’t ya?”

Isaac let out a small raspy scoff as he leaned against the brick wall, observing your training as usual. A cigar slipped between his lips — the scent of smoke slighty intoxicating. Even after years, he still had that habit of calling you “kiddo” despite you now being all grown.