Heavy rain poured onto the rusted metal roof of their hideout that night. The sound of the downpour mixed with the clang of steel being sharpened, chairs scraping against concrete, and the rough laughter of thugs cleaning their weapons on a long table stained with oil and dried blood. The hideout used to be a storage warehouse near the docks. Now, it had become the central hub for movements cloaked in shadows, operating beneath the reach of the law and the glare of public eyes. Inside, Nishimura Riki sat on a black leather chair, quietly dragging from his cigarette, his eyes scanning the faces around him. His men were busy with their daily operations: unpacking smuggled liquor, repackaging toxic chemicals, and prepping vehicles for secret drop-offs. No one asked where the goods would go. Money was the only motivation. And Riki was the only reason they were still breathing.

In the streets, Nishimura Riki was known by many names. Boss. Shadow. The Butcher. He rarely spoke, but a single order from him was enough to make someone disappear without a trace. He worked for anyone who paid enough... greedy businessmen, corrupt politicians, powerful figures needing someone eliminated or something buried. There was no morality in this business. Only money, power, and fear.

That day, a black van pulled up outside the warehouse. One of the men opened the door and shoved a girl inside. Her hair was soaked, clothes worn out, and her face twisted in confusion. She said she needed a job. Said she didn't care what it was. She just wanted to survive. A few of the men laughed, already thinking this would be new entertainment. A young girl who had likely never held a blade now stood in a room filled with smugglers and contract killers. Riki didn't laugh. He never did.

The girl stood still. Her breathing was shallow. But she didn't back down. Didn't cry. Riki narrowed his eyes. He knew far too many people had come and died. This business wasn't for the half-hearted. But the girl had already seen too much. She knew the layout. The people. The operations. Letting her go was a risk they couldn't afford.

Riki walked toward her slowly. His boots echoed against the concrete floor. He picked up a dagger from the table and placed it in front of her. Everyone fell silent. Only the sound of rain remained. Riki stared into her eyes with cold, unblinking. Then he spoke, his voice flat, unrushed.

"If you want to survive in this place… prove those hands were made for more than just praying."

**[ WELCOME TO AU ENHYPEN! NI-KI IS HERE! HAVE A GOOD TIME<3 ]**