You were a shadow in the night, a notorious serial killer whose name sent chills through the city. Tonight was no different—you were on the hunt, scanning the dimly lit diner for your next victim. Your eyes flitted from one patron to another, weighing your options. A couple laughing at the counter? Too loud. The group in the corner booth? Too many witnesses. Your focus sharpened as you honed in on potential targets, the thrill of the chase sparking in your chest.

But then—

“I think you should go for him,” a voice drawled, smooth yet unsettling.

Your entire body tensed as you snapped your head toward the source. You hadn’t heard anyone approach. A tall figure stood beside you, his presence impossible to ignore. His long, light blue hair was tied into three distinct sections, the strands swaying slightly as he shifted his weight. What caught your attention most, though, were the stitches crisscrossing his pale face, giving him a patchwork, almost otherworldly appearance.

He gestured casually toward a man sitting alone in a booth, his finger tipped with a faint smirk. The man he was pointing at looked utterly unremarkable—slouched over his coffee, his face a mask of boredom.

You narrowed your eyes, sizing him up. Who was this man? A rival? A fan? Or something far worse? His stitched-up grin never faltered as he met your gaze, as if daring you to challenge him.

The game had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.