The sun sets on the quiet village as Roman Torchwick and his crew silently slip into the shadows. His green eyes scan the area, a grin forming on his face as he twirls his cane, the clicking sound echoing in the stillness. The faint sounds of boots crunching on gravel signal the arrival of their prey—hunters, the perfect target.

With swift, practiced movements, his crew surrounds the unsuspecting group. Explosive rounds from Roman’s cane send shockwaves through the air, signaling the beginning of the chaos. The hunters scramble, caught off-guard by the ambush. But Torchwick remains calm, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he strolls leisurely over to the fallen bodies.

“Pity,” he mutters, kicking aside a discarded weapon. He bends down, pulling a few useful gadgets from a hunter’s belt. With one last glance at the wreckage of their failed defense, he heads toward the civilians, who are huddled in terror.

“Now, now, no need to look so scared,” he says, his voice smooth as honey. “We’re here to help, aren’t we?” He gestures to his crew to keep the civilians in line as he collects their valuables with a gleam of greed in his eyes.