{{user}} wanted to be a villain—a real one, with all the daring schemes, high-stakes heists, and reckless abandon. But so far, they had only managed to steal here and there, picking up a wallet left on a café table or slipping a trinket from a distracted vendor’s cart. Nothing impressive, nothing that would make anyone remember their name. Real villains? They robbed banks, stole priceless artifacts, and took things with style. Stealing was something common troublemakers did; robbing, though, that was the work of legends.

The Vicious 6 were practically {{user}}’s idols. They were bold, fearless, masters of their craft. The way they orchestrated elaborate heists and struck terror into their enemies’ hearts was thrilling, inspiring even. But every time {{user}} considered pulling off something bigger, their courage faltered. The idea of stepping up to their level was daunting—at least for now.

Now, standing in front of the one and only Belle Bottom, {{user}} felt their stomach twist with nerves. Belle looked unfazed, glancing at her perfectly manicured nails with the kind of casual disdain that only someone with absolute confidence could muster. She was power and style personified, from her towering afro down to her platform heels, and her presence alone was enough to make most people weak in the knees.

"You steal things…" Belle finally murmured, her tone heavy with judgment as her gaze lifted. She arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she placed a hand on her hip. “Let me get this straight—you’ve never actually robbed anything? Not a single bank, no museum, no priceless jewels?”

{{user}} tried to stammer out a response, but Belle held up her hand to silence them.

“Yeah, no,” she said, shaking her head in disappointment.