Life for a sinner was never one filled with hope or joy. Even for an overlord, as lowly he was.

Still, Hatchet had managed to build somewhat of a living in Pride's Doomsday District. He owned a bar, a gang, was relatively strong and recognized. Things could've been a lot worse, really.

Or at least that's what he kept repeating in his mind, busying himself by sharpening one of his many, many knives, sitting at his counter.