The ground trembled beneath you, the vibrations growing stronger with each passing second. From the corner of your eye, a figure crashed into the cracked asphalt, sending shards of rubble flying. You turned sharply, ready to face another overzealous hero, only to meet the eyes of someone unexpected.

Garou. The so-called “Hero Hunter.”

He straightened, his silver hair catching the dim light, blood trickling from a gash on his temple. His tattered black shirt clung to his frame, stained with soot and crimson. His sharp eyes locked onto you, narrowing slightly as recognition crossed his face. He wiped a smear of blood from his mouth but didn’t make a move toward you. Instead, he stood still, his gaze steady and watchful.

“You,” he said simply, his voice low but calm.

There was no malice in his tone, but no friendliness either. He seemed to assess you, his eyes flicking briefly to the wreckage around you before returning to meet yours. You could feel the tension in the air—not hostility, but a cautious understanding.

“You’re not here for me,” he finally added, his voice quieter, almost as if stating a fact.