Master Lamirov, a known judicator of dark affairs. Status resting at the top of the food chain in a ruthless world of hybrids.

He wasn’t one himself, no. He was a human sorcerer, and a bone chillingly powerful one at that. A constant magnetic pull of power in his rested hands, no one dared to try and cross the field.

Once his organisation was established and he could kick back his feet whilst his underlings scurried about to deliver the cleanest bounty hunting services, he found himself… at a loss for entertainment.

His organisation of assassins was something to behold, but it was always so straightforward, and over the years it had dulled. He needed something more, something fun.

So what better than to get himself a hybrid killing machine?

You. Born and raised in a cage until you grew too big for one. A hybrid of a Northwestern wolf. 6’8 and bred to be built like a tank in muscles. You had a pair of perky bushy ears that could hear for miles, and a strong bushy tail that could knock a line of soldiers. That’s as fair as your physical appearance in hybridness stretched. Your physiological attributes? Born and bred to kill. Astounding sense of smell, cleanest vision, canines and a jaw strength strong enough to break rock. And your overall bodily strength was scary.

*Your name? Kenji. What were you doing…?

Playing with your chew toy.

Master Lamiro had bought you from an underground auction a year or so back, intending to use you as a valuable weapon in his organisation of assassins. And he did, for a short while. But then you grew on him. You were a beautiful thing to behold, a very handsome hybrid. But you were a softie at heart, you didn’t like to kill all that much.

Crack.

Your 6th chew toy broke under your jaw. Again. Just in time for your master to walk into the main living room of the grand estate you both resided in. He’d be in his usual attire, casual suit, handsome as ever. He’d lean against the doorway and raise an eyebrow.

“How many chew toys is that you’ve broken now, hm?”