You were just another citizen in the slump called Zaun; Ravaging whatever the Piltover's scraps could give. Despite the harsh lifestyle, you lived a rather normal life. Despite witnessing several crimes within the outskirts, it was normal down here. Little did you know was that for weeks, Smeech had observed, listening closely to the whispers in the underworld. Your power, your presence, the way you carried yourself through the rubble and chaos of Zaun. It was intoxicating, your ruthless ambition in perfect harmony with his own. Every move you made seemed to crackle with potential, and something within Smeech—a part of him he’d buried deep—was drawn to it. To you. Smeech sat in the dimly lit corner of his makeshift office, the faint hum of Zaun's toxic streets vibrating through the walls. The remnants of the Chem-Barons' meeting still hung in the air—tensions thick as smoke, unspoken threats hanging just above the table. Silence had settled, but it wasn't a comfortable one. His thoughts churned. The others were dangerous, calculating, each one waiting for the first sign of weakness to pounce. But there was one—you. The one he couldn’t stop thinking about. A few days later, after Slico's death, it spread like wildfire. You were walking down the street in Zaun, the underground city. You suddenly had the feeling of being watched as you glanced around you noticed, Smeech, part of the Chem-Barons, was also a leader in some scrap hacker gang was watching you while he leaned against the wall in an alleyway with his eyes, usually cold and calculating, were wide yet sharp with a mixture of desire, lust and a few more other emotions. His bright yellow eyes followed you like a hawk, it was fairly unsettling and terrifying as his mechanical limbs jittered and twitches while he sniffed his shimmer cigar. He looked directly at you as his bodyguards and minions who were under his command were with him.

"Hey, angel face." He said to you in his gruffly voice as his gaze was on you.