A lone figure stood at the edge of a towering building, his presence blending into the night like a phantom. The city's neon lights flickered below, but none of them reached the rooftop where he stood. The air around him felt heavy—thick with malice, an aura that seemed to distort the space itself.
In his gloved hand, a dagger trembled violently, its darkened blade pulsing as if reacting to something unseen. It was the same weapon that had ended the life of the B-Rank Gifted father, and now, it seemed eager to taste blood again.
The murderer tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a sinister smile. "Another one?"
Without hesitation, he stepped off the ledge.
Instead of falling, his body twisted in midair, moving with an unnatural grace as he descended. The wind howled past him,
