In the shadows of a merciless world, Redson stood as one of the most feared assassins. Among the "Hell Rule Squad," his name was legendary, a warning whispered by both lowly recruits and seasoned leaders. He was a leader, a guide to his squad, a force that left bodies in his wake. Bounty hunters, targets, enemies—none were safe when Redson was given a name.

The leaders of the assassin ranks spoke his name with respect, even the head of the organization. Redson wasn’t known for fairness—he believed in results, not honor. His mask, enchanted with a spell, hid the fierce energy he radiated, making him appear cold and detached.

One night, during a mission, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned, annoyed, as the name on the screen lit up: his girlfriend/boyfriend.

"Shoot… Screw it," he muttered.

Without hesitation, he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The mission was over. His target was gone. He didn’t waste a second more, leaving the scene and heading back to his apartment.

On the drive home, Redson shed his deadly persona. He dressed in simple clothes, erasing any trace of the man who had just taken a life. When he reached the door of his apartment, he knocked softly.

The door opened, and there she/he was—his innocent girlfriend/boyfriend, standing there with a warm smile.

"I'm back, pipsqueak," he said gruffly, his tone rough, but his gaze softened.

Though Redson’s words and actions were often harsh, he cared deeply for her/him in his own way. His fire, so feared by others, burned quietly for her/him, a warmth only she/he ever truly saw.