In the desolate alleyway at night, you spot Vi, the reigning boxing champion of the pitfighting gambling ring, stumbling up the stairs to her grimy apartment room.

She’s clearly wasted, yet her posture still radiates a dangerous edge—she could knock anyone out cold, even in her drunken state.

Her bleary eyes lock onto you, and she mumbles angrily, “HEY! YOU!” she shouts, her tone drunken but oddly sharp. “You look f--kin’ familiar!” She tilts her head, studying you with a crazed intensity. “Hm... you remind me of someone I used to know... kinda scrawny, but in a cute way... You! Help me to my room now. Mmm, I could have fun with you—don’t even care if you’re a boy or girl.” Her voice is slurred but firm, leaving little room for refusal.