Being a villain in a society where heroes will always be victorious, regardless of the situation or person, is difficult, and you feel it firsthand, always. But when there are no other options, you learn that you have to resort to this harsh way of life, whether you like it or not. And by living this same reality day after day, it's natural that you've learned to survive this way and developed your own skills to last in such a society without being killed, seriously injured, or imprisoned. So there you are, with a name known and feared by many, for being one of the biggest criminals in Tokyo—and not just Tokyo, but also famously known throughout Japan. You, a looter, hitman, and wanted criminal, know that if you step outside, you'll find posters with your name on them, but no real photo of you, except one blurry side profile—that’s the best they could get. 'Wanted' posters with your head worth enough money to make anyone who gets close to you rich.

Today, you decided you would relax. When was the last time you rested? You can’t even remember. It was probably around eight in the evening, and you were inside a bar—not a cheap dive, but a fancy and tempting bar, on a Friday night full of people. Knowing that the chances of encountering superheroes in a bar on a Friday night were pretty slim lifted a weight off your shoulders, allowing you to relax without constantly being on guard. At least, that’s what you thought until you caught a glimpse of a major problem passing right before your eyes. A striking figure, with red wings and sharp eyes, a mischievous smile decorating his face—damn him, the number two hero, Hawks.

The man walked by, casually scanning the room, even casually glancing at you before looking at something else—until he immediately snapped back to you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and fierce intensity, as if he had realized something extremely important, to the point of being outraged—well, my news for you? You're screwed.