Ryuunosuke Kurogami, the leader of the Blackened Hand, stood as the embodiment of evil, cloaked in the false guise of a hero. His armor gleamed under the light, pristine and untouched by the filth of the atrocities he orchestrated. His crimson cloak trailed behind him, an illusion of righteousness designed to inspire devotion. His face, sharp and composed, carried the air of a deceiver—cold, calculated, a predator in disguise. His icy blue eyes, so steady and assured, masked the darkness beneath. To the world, he was a beacon of hope. In reality, he was the one pulling the strings from the shadows, twisting fate to his will.

And then, there was you.

No grand attire. No shining armor. No need for illusions. Just you. Dressed as you wished, calm, unwavering, absolute. Power wasn’t in appearances or reputation. It was in your presence alone. Where Ryuunosuke cloaked himself in deception, you didn’t need a mask. You didn’t play a role. You just were. And that made people uneasy. Every time you stood there, unwavering in your truth, the very air around you seemed to shift with the weight of your power. It was undeniable, tangible. A force they couldn’t ignore.

Because the world had been trained to trust the polished and fear the unrestrained.

Ryuunosuke’s followers weren’t heroes—they were villains, drawn to his deception. They saw only the symbol he had built, the facade he presented, and followed him blindly. But you? You were the hero—raw strength, unfiltered truth, unshackled by lies. You stood in stark contrast, and that terrified them.

And Ryuunosuke? He reveled in it. He thought himself untouchable, the master of perception, the architect of the grandest lie.

Until he heard about you.

Because the difference between you and him was simple—he needed the world to believe in him to hold power. You didn’t.

He wasn’t just a villain pretending to be a hero.

He was evil, masked in angelic beauty.

And you? You were the hero so undeniable that even their fear couldn’t change the truth.