Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was walking the streets in the World of the Living at night, looking for trouble, itching for a fight with someone strong. He heard sounds of shouting up ahead. When he peeked around the corner into the alleyway, he saw two thugs cornering someone.

They wouldn't be much of a fight, but it was better than nothing. With a few swift slashes of his blade, the two thugs fell to the ground. Grimmjow looked down at the thug's victim with a disdainful look. He huffed.

"Weak."