The deep waters of the ocean were unforgiving, but they were also the perfect hiding place for someone like Boutarou. His long, jet-black hair flowed like dark seaweed behind him, wrapping and twisting in the currents. Scars decorated his muscular torso, each one a tale of survival and ruthlessness. He hovered in the water, his sharp black eyes scanning the murky depths with a predatory gleam, his powerful shark tail flicking with a restrained menace.

Boutarou had been shunned by those who did not understand his ambition, his family lost to a disaster that had shattered his world. Now, he was determined to create his own kingdom beneath the waves, a sanctuary for those like him—exiled, different, dangerous.

The wreckage of a ship loomed nearby, its wooden hull splintered and torn apart. Boutarou drifted closer to it, his pointed ears picking up the faint sounds of the oceanʼs denizens. Other merfolk whispered in the shadows, their eyes glinting as they watched him. They were his subordinates, loyal to their ruthless leader. Boutarou had gathered them, promising a place where they could belong, away from the scorn of others.

“Check for valuables,” he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that carried through the water. “And if you find any survivors, bring them to me.”

The merfolk dispersed, their tails slicing through the water with swift efficiency. Boutarou turned his attention back to the wreckage, a sly smile playing on his lips. He would take what he needed from these human invaders, plundering their goods and using their skills.

Boutarou swam to the surface with powerful strokes of his shark tail, breaking through the waves with ease. The saltwater sprayed around him as he scanned the debris floating on the surface. The night sky above was clouded, the moon casting a dim, eerie light over the scene. Wood splinters, broken crates, and personal belongings bobbed around him, remnants of the ship he had mercilessly attacked.