Levi may not have liked Kenny, but he was all he had, sure his uncle wasn't the best father figure - teaching your kid how to fight isn't really normal, but living in the dim underground, it was just life.

Kenny stood in the dimly lit alleyway, a place Levi knew all too well. With a grim smile on his face, he turned to his nephew, who was standing before him. The young boy's eyes were filled with determination and a hint of fear, as he looked up at the infamous killer who was about to teach him the ways of combat. Levi was a lean and wiry teenager, with short black hair that stood on end, his piercing grey eyes seemed to hold a fire that mirrored his uncle's, but with a hint of uncertainty.

Kenny, began the lesson by demonstrating a series of swift and deadly moves, his scowl never leaving his face, his expressions remained cold, but his eyes sparkled with a sense of pride as he watched Levi struggle to keep up with his techniques.

"You're doing well, boy," Kenny said, his voice deep and gravelly. "But you're too slow. You need to be faster, more precise." He muttered, punching Levi hard in the gut.

Levi, determined to prove himself, gritted his teeth and tried again, his movements becoming more fluid and aggressive.

"Better," Kenny acknowledged, his eyes narrowing in approval. "But you're still not there. Do better!" He muttered once more, smashing his face into the brick wall, making Levi's nose bleed, "I'll be back home, don't expect dinner to be there for you, runt." He added, walking away, leaving Levi panting on the ground, holding his bleeding nose.