Ever since that day...that incident...he knew what he became...

The evening was dreary. Clouds loomed over the tall buildings, a scent of rain filling the air. There was no sight of rain yet the stench made everyone on edge. It was as if it were a warning for a dangerous event befalling the future. Lights began to flicker on in the windows of the nearby buildings, filling the streets as the evening sun began to set. No one liked the dark for they knew the villains lurk around. Many would keep on lights like they expected villains to creep out from under their bed. Yet the streets slowly settled, humans crept around from a long day of work to enjoy a night of drinking and conversations. It seemed like a normal night but little did anyone know, it was a night that ended with hundreds of innocent humans dying...the largest villain massacre in history. Villains don’t cause as much trouble as people thought, at least massacre-wise. Villain cases at the time were usually nothing but basic incidences. Humans would die here or there but not in great quantities. Most mainstream incidents with villains occur through battles between each other, humans somehow getting in the middle. Villains had their reasons to cause a great ruckus. You’d think that humans would run when finding out that villains are outside their homes battling it out. Villains weren’t always the ones to work together as depicted in unnecessary rumors. Just like humans they argued and fought, but due to the heavy drive of masochism and adrenaline they always ended up in physical battles. But this incident wasn’t just a battle between villains.

Kierman was just a kid at the time, barely living his life. He was only 18-years-old but even at such a young age, he did cause trouble with villains. But for once, he wasn’t the one to pick a fight this time. A villain, known as Inferno to the VK, was the culprit, one with the capability of igniting vast fires. Inferno sought to harm Kierman due to his insubordinate nature. But the thing was, he was raised by Inferno, seeing him as a father figure. Finding Kierman on the streets as a young boy, he took him in, raising him to be a strong young man. What pissed him off was something Kierman couldn’t conclude to this day. The argument was only a blur to Kierman, as it easily got carried away. “Wait, I didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t me who did it. W-What are you doing?!” He had pleaded as he was knocked to the ground. “I am only doing you a favor, kid. I will take away your power once and for all,” Inferno’s hand slammed into his skin. His palm pressed into his left eye. At first, there was no pain but soon the flamed heat ignited, searing his face. The scent of burning flesh filled the air. The street that night was filled with screams. It wasn’t the screams of the people but the bellows that came from him. His arms and legs struggled but he was unable to escape from underneath Inferno. “Someone...help me,” Shallow screams of words filled the air. “Please! Help!” Yet as his unharmed eye dashed left and right, expecting someone to save him, he saw people watching him. Their eyes were wide with distaste and fear. Their jaws tensed as they stood frozen. They were just watching him, not even batting an eye to save him. They were too afraid of the villain that had him pinned down, so they let him suffer...they let him suffer. Scrambling for relief he managed to pry the hand off of his face, burning his fingertips. Lucky for him, he was able to save his eye. His eyes were wide and distinct as blood and puss from the burn drenched his face. The moment his eyes locked onto the man was the moment he gained leverage. Inferno froze as an effect of Kierman’s power, causing Kierman to snatch at his arm. Kierman’s eyes widened once again as he felt the man’s pyro power course through his veins. He kicked and struggled until he was free from his grip. He staggered upwards, bashing the man’s face with his fists, allowing his fingers to cause burns across Inferno’s face, the same that happened to him just a few seconds ago. When the body underneath him grew limp, he allowed his knees to buckle. Kierman knew he wasn’t dead yet since he continued to feel the pyro power in his body. He hunched over, watching the man with the scorched and bashed in face with tears in his eyes.

The adrenaline that coursed through his veins began to cease, allowing emotion to seek an escape. Deep sorrowful laughs lifted from his pained throat when he realized how much trouble he was in. The sound of the police sirens filled his ears but it clearly didn’t make him stop laughing. People murmured and backed away, even with the protection of a hero. “Freeze, put your hands in the air!” A policeman called standing firm behind Kierman’s hunched body. Like any other villain, Kierman didn’t listen. “You damn villain! Listen and put your hands in the air!” The policeman boomed while placing his finger on the trigger. Along with the laughs, Kierman spoke. “You fools. You sinister humans are stuck-up bastards, claiming villains are the evil ones?! You let me suffer when I needed you the most.” His voice grew more pained and sinister by the second, as he peeked his eyes over his shoulder. His skin and clothes were coated in blood, the skin on his face mutilated. “Enough now!” The policeman continued, holding up his gun. “Tell me, human. What sound comes before the whole city screams?” His voice halted as his voice grew psychopathic. He wiped the blood off of his lips with his thumb, licking the thick blood off of his finger afterward. “Kaboom,”

With one flick of his hand, the whole ward exploded in flames.

--

“The...the whole ward is on fire! An unknown villain has ignited everything on fire! Everyone is to evacuate,” A newscaster yelled into their microphone, breaking news filling the homes of everyone across the city. They attempted to capture the scenery as they broadcasted such events for the city to see. But the newscaster faltered as audio captured a strict laugh coming from within the flames. The laugh sounded pained and exhausted, clearly villainess. “There...There is someone...in the flames...laughing,” They stammered out of pure fear as the camera was pointed towards the flame-ridden streets. Even the buildings were fully engulfed in nothing but flames. Sounds of cars blowing up and glass shattering didn’t mute such a laugh. “We need to leave,” The voice was now muffled as the camera shattered to the ground. The footage was still running, capturing very little due to the fuzziness. Yet, the laughter grew louder but it clearly became distorted. It was clearly seen through the jacked pixels that a man was crawling out of the fire on his hands and knees. He was the one who was laughing. The basilisk himself...Kierman. Blood splattered onto the ground from his face as he lowered his head to the ground in pure pain as the fire roared behind him. His laugh was villainess but mixed with screams of pain. It was painful to watch for any viewer. His head lifted, the camera capturing his mutilated face as huffed breaths escaped him. Yet it was too fuzzy to capture most of his features. Over time it became clear that this was the only captured footage of the villain leader known even to this day.

The people didn’t recover too well after the incident. Newspapers plastered the streets, rumors filled the air. No one knew exactly who the villain was but it became clear that he was dangerous. That was when he was given the name ‘The Basilisk.’ Both villains and people have confessed rumors that a single gaze of his can make any person drop dead. Though many of the rumors were exaggerated. After many reviews of the captured footage, the police were unable to find the villain. They didn’t even know how the major explosion of fire started. At the time, the VK Corporation didn’t have the power to take on villain cases. The police were the higher authority, the ones taking on each case before the VK was even allowed to get involved. But after such an incident, the policemen were forced to back down. They handed all information they had to the VK including the fuzzy footage of ‘The Basilisk.’

It changed him and his morals. Defeating an enemy like that, with power flushing his system, drove him to insanity. He was a nobody before that incident, one who didn’t even know the strength of his own power. He loved the attention, the lives he held in the palm of his hand. Many villains already began to fear him, the crime cases caused by such villains lowering drastically in percentage. Yet over the years, he was able to escape that high drive, finding himself as a calmer more authoritative figure. 8 years later after the incident occurred, he became the villain leader of the most powerful group of villains. Their organization was given the name, The Blackout Corps, known as Blackout for short.

“Oi, oi boss!” A ruffled hair man exclaimed from across the abundant spread table, thrusting his hand in the air for recognition. He had a wider structure, sure to dissipate a few pounds if he put in the effort. He went by the shrewd name Fergus Holt, but the VK has him documented as Valdis. The VK presumed it was a high-grade idea to fill his narcissism with the indecisive name, Valdis, since it meant goddess but additionally has the latent meaning of the dead. A name distributed to him due to his irregular fascination with killing women, goddess being a reference to the female gender. Yet, that inexplicably didn't relate to his villainous power. Kierman, who was seated at the summit of the table, hoisted his head in nuisance. His only apparent vale eye igniting a crimsoned scowl. “What did I tell you about calling me boss,” The words scarcely left his throat without being stifled, as he previously yielded a cigarette on his lips. He had yet to light it. “Oh pleeease, Mr. Basilisk,” A cynical slur left his deep-toned vocals. He retired his heavyset chin on his fist, his elbow lounging on the table as he gawked at the other members who were honestly striving to consume their meal. Yes, villains were all corrupt but they exerted the time to eat together, at least in the Blackout Corps. Uniquely in a villain corporation, it was most beneficial at least to Kierman, that their bonds mature in strength in such enterprises. They would have to work together and have each other’s backs so family-like activities would make them stronger than the mediocre villain club. “Lemme tell them why you are so macho!!” His tongue sputtered like a thug. Kierman closed his eyes in the least amused manner. A profound sigh eluded him but his eyes flicked open when a young woman progressed towards him and ignited the cigarette in between his lips. Kierman requited her no recognition otherwise, not even a contented gaze. He took extensive puffs of the pale smoke that loitered from his addiction. “Tell who?” He summoned, with his subconscious elsewhere. Valdis, of course, huffed under his breath. He was nevertheless the overdramatized one of the crew. “The rookies of course,” He flew his hand towards the inexperienced members like he was bestowing a presentation. That was right...they did get new rookies. Only 4 young adults that Kierman had seen suited to join. Their ages ranged from 16-19 years of age. He knew they wouldn't last though. Villain-work was enormously extensive than their innocent expressions let on. Yet as Kierman peaked towards them he only discerned that 3 were present. Of course, out of all 3 of them, his prized trainee was not there.

“So be it,” Kierman grumbled, urging the cigarette out from between his lips, propping it in between two fingers. He wasn't troubled about so many within the Blackout Corps hearing about his origin story. They cowered to him so extensively that he didn't stew about them passing the word on. Even if they did, they and every person they narrated would be exterminated. A chuckle garbled from his throat as he scrutinized the wide-eyed rookies hearkening to his story. But when the liberty came everyone went still. “...and you know what he said before igniting the whole ward?” Valdis ricocheted his words as he inclined over the table, the rookies withdrawing, not because they were fearful but because Valdis was concerningly disturbing. Everyone went silent, a tradition to when the story of The Basilisk was being discussed. “Kaboom!” All the members other than the rookies screeched, hurling their hands on the table. One of the rookies was so astonished that they tumbled out of their seat while the others flinched. Sounds of merriment saturated the room. A sinister mockery that the Blackout Corps members produced to terrorize the new arrivals. But by this time, Kierman had persisted on his heels, already heading for the doorway. Though, a voice halted him. “Kierman,” It was that young woman who lit his cigarette just a few moments ago. She must have discerned how unfocused he was as he continuously eyed the abandoned chair of his missing apprentice. “I am under the impression that he went rogue. The other night he was speeling about exterminating an assemblage of humans to make himself stronger. I presumed it was the brew talking. I should have known,” Her fist tensed, mortified that she had to tell the Blackout Corp's leader such vile information. “I will take care of it. In the meantime, take care of everyone until I return,” Kierman veered away, his hair curtseying in the shift of his body. He wasn't resolute on the other members unless he needed to be.

Akira Russo...16-years-old...known as Vulture to the VK. He was a youngster when Kierman had discovered his gaunt figure on the streets, about 6 years after the incident initiating Akira 14-years-old at the time. He was a truant, one who never planned on progressing home. Kierman, at first, had taken no interest in the youngster however there was something about him that stood out. His eyes weren’t broken like every other villain. To be precise, they conveyed the aura of salvation and spirit. After feeding the vindictive bastard-personality child, he wouldn’t lie when he ultimately reaped an interest in the boy. It was fascinating to see how sophisticated such a youngster was. Akira was already adequately harmonized to his power for an immature age, though he did have a newfangled habit of carousing with potent alcohol. That was probably why he portrayed himself like a bastard at times. But Kierman wasn’t one to indulge in one’s habits, no matter the age. His power, though, was another matter. Given the villain name Vulture due to his talent to sap the life out of people. When Akira necessitates a human life, he tacks on years of life, sequentially constructing himself as immortal. He has the capability of dying but he is revived only seconds later, but that proposes that numerous years of life are taken away. So, if he plays it right then he has the potential to be immortal permanently. The solitary way to exterminate the young sap is to kill him over and over until his lives run out, but of course, that is if he isn’t granted the chance to execute another human in the meantime. Sadly, this implied that he perpetually carries an egoic temperament, getting in trouble with the VK various times, favorably escaping each time. And such a resolution left him to look up to Kierman, hoping to emboss him with his power. That is plausibly the reason why he had run off to get even more efficacious.

It didn’t take long to pursue his apprentice's trail. He omitted a widespread trace. It was explicit as to whom he killed due to the distinguishing signature that he neglected on each body. Such a rookie to devise a mistake in each killing case. Akira would lace his weapons with poison, which could kill a person immediately given the accurate dose. His power wasn’t prominent in combat so his weapons made up for his weaknesses. Yet, the weapons were the mentality why he could be tracked so effortlessly. As a reaction to the poison, the human’s blood coagulates and eclipses to a deep red with a gray hue. The poison is unnoticeable for incompetent investigators or policemen. It is distinguished because its potency doesn’t dilate, making it susceptible to enter into another human’s body if proffered the chance. But it of course has to imbue into the skin after a prolonged period of time or invade the body directly through oral regions.

That trail sequentially led Kierman to the most contemporary destination. Akira loved to go on his killing sprees so it wasn’t arduous to encounter his recent killings, simultaneously with the peculiar trail he left behind on each body. Three humans were mutilated with a knife, their blood was strewn about and splattered. Thick with a gray hue as usual. He leaned over the bodies, staring into their lifeless astray eyes. “Come on, Vulture. I thought I taught you how to hide bodies,” A mediocre murmur left his throat as he jostled another cigarette in his mouth, but he wasn’t given a chance to kindle it. The racket of footsteps made him draw to the shadows. His eyes slimmed in officiousness. It was moderately easy to depict the variation between a conventional investigator and a VK investigator. Regular investigators would have already summoned the police on the scene, but VK investigators were like lonesome wolves, arriving by themselves before beckoning a clean-up crew. Yet, she must be a naive one to be scrambling through the blood-ridden pockets of the deceased. Didn’t even wear gloves. Such a sad sight.

If he didn’t have to get Akira back, he would have permitted the poison to set into her system. Yet, to his dismay, he had no alternative but to lead her off of his trail.

It was only a matter of time until the VK worker was to comprehend him. It actually took her longer than anticipated to sense his presence. Yet, she inevitably grew sharp with whipping out her gun. At least she had comparatively conventional training. It was tactless of her to not notice him precisely when she arrived. If he had the intent to execute her she would already be dead at the moment. Not even alarmed by her impromptu movement, his fingertips capped the luminous flame of a lighter as he sparked his cigarette. A vibrated sigh deserted him after the preeminent gratifying puff. “It doesn’t help that you are urging me to reveal myself with a gun aimed at my head,” He informally spoke as the cigarette muffled his voice. A grin dirtied his face when she effectuated her unyielding actions. Kierman surfaced from the shadows, his bandaged eye, exaggerated figure, and slopped hair visible to her now. His hands were jostled into his pockets, his simper growing slim before she could convey the spectacles of his appearance. “Oh don’t fret. If I had intentions of killing you, you would already be dead…” A bashful chuckle escaped his throat as he hoisted a hand submissively. His attentiveness speedily directed towards the bodies. “It is truly disturbing to have continued deaths like this, but the last thing I want is another, miss,” He approached her with a sweeping momentum before snatching at her hand, forcing her to drop the ID's with a dense squeeze of her wrist. With a blow of smoke in her face, he whisked out a handkerchief and mopped the blood off of her fingers. He then pitched the handkerchief aside, towards the bodies. His fingers hoisted and plucked the cigarette away from his lips, tapping the ash to the ground. “Poison,” He deliberately let go of her hand. He cleared his throat before making it apparent as to what transpired. “There is poison in the blood. I’m astonished you didn’t tell by the thick density of it. It is also inexplicably colored...I hope I didn’t startle you, miss. I can be quite intimidating, especially when rushing a petite lady like yourself. But I didn’t want you to touch your face and unintentionally kill yourself,” His voice was soothingly enigmatic, purely rich in tone, yet somehow sinister at the same time. There was a way that he vocalized that seemed inhuman-like but his demeanor was nowhere near antagonistic like a regular villain would be. “I just saw these bodies here and was about to report them to the police. Then I heard your footsteps and was unsure if the culprit was coming back to the scene. But I guess the shadows didn’t conceal my presence if you comprehended me so effortlessly. I’m considerably grateful that I didn’t come face to face with one,” His foolishly kind voice initiated conversation as he took a final puff of his cigarette before flicking it aside.

(Sorry, kinda short!)

Ivory squinted her eyes as the man lit his cigar, watching the flickering crimson flame dance in the dark for a moment before the end of the smoke began to glow red every time he drew in a breath as he started emerging from the shadows. When she saw his face, her gaze became steadily harsher. She recalled seeing someone with a similar appearance once upon a time, but she couldn't remember if it had been described to and she made up an image or if she had seen it herself. Something told her she needed to be wary of him, so when he kept getting closer, she couldn't help but grow irritated. She put her revolver back in its holster, but she didn't let up on her guard. Saying she'd be dead if he wanted her to be? That wasn't a rationale to be calm, and it was hardly a reason to trust this stranger. Even if it was a weak attempt at a joke, it made her apprehensive. He had shown up out of nowhere but shadows, and she had no idea how long he had been there. She felt like an idiot for not discovering him sooner, but she couldn't go back in time. "I'm entirely aware it's... Disconcerting." Ivory's voice started becoming agitated as he placed a stronghold on her wrist and watched as the ID fall from her hands. When he blew a puff of dark smoke in her face, it stung and flooded her eyes, and the second-hand smoke scorched and tickled her throat as she cleared her lungs with a huff. "Charming... You suppose that's poison?" Ivory murmured, drifting away before coughing faintly. She didn't see just how thick and clotted the blood was. She didn't even take into account what a unique tone it was until it was pointed out to her. She shook her head, frustrated that whoever had to notify her had to. When she investigated the carcasses more closely, she realised how out of the ordinary they just were. It wasn't even crimson, but when she thought about it, she noticed she'd only ever seen such a shade on long-dead bodies. After he noted he could be intimidating, Ivory offered nothing but a 'no shit' look, but she let him persist until he finally put down his cigar. The young woman remained mute for a brief minute, clearly deciding to stay silent while she thought, before shaking her head and letting out a frustrated huff at this man's dismissive tone, ignorant to much of what he had just said. "Excuse me, Sir, I do hope you don't mind my questioning, however, I need to know. How long exactly have you been here?" Like a burst of chilly air howling through the alley and past them, her voice stayed solid and direct as she became stiff and rigid once more. "I assume before I arrived."

She wasn't typically so rigid; she was much more flexible and engaging, but something... something wasn't exactly right. She wasn't positive what it was, at least not yet, but something wasn't quite right. He seemed so composed in a somewhat stressful situation, and the fact that he could easily approach her after she had pointed a loaded gun at him left her feeling uncomfortable. Still, she merely wanted to get it all over with so she could get back to work and prove herself competent, but she was prooving the exact opposite to herself right now, considering that this stranger noticed more than she could have. Ivory drew in yet another breath, "Have you seen any suspicious activity over the last few hours that you think I should know about?" Now Ivory had found herself listing everything she had been taught. Realistically, that was good, but you need to leave time for the other person to speak. She didn't notice how fast she was going until she saw the amused look on the others face.

She was debating whether or not she should have come out alone at this point. There was the option of having a somewhat more advanced officer come out for a short time to make sure she was okay, but she had declined. A little reassurance would have been nice though, but she hadn't expected to feel so scared. Her jaw tightened as she clamped it, eliciting a scoff from her. "Listen, this is the first time I've done something like this on my own, and it's been a long time since I've received any training. So if we could make this short and pleasant, that would be fantastic." Ivory blabbered out, accompanied by an indistinguishable sigh. She had never had much presence and had always had a delicate demeanour, but the way she had just admitted herself made her seem even more pathetic to some extent. She knew it did, but it honestly couldn't get much worse, and if it did, she could leave it at that.

"Could you tell me your name?" She sounded a little less tight now, a little calmer. "We need to be able to find you again if we need any of your information." Ivory glanced at the ground before picking up the fallen IDs, reading them out in her head quietly, Charles Wessex, Andy Marquez, and Lena Millington. They weren't related, so she didn't have to worry about it becoming a family issue. The murders appeared to have no discernible pattern at times, even though they had commonly occurred in groups of three during the previous few months. At the same moment, three people's bodies were disfigured and fought with. Just like the ones she could see right now. There had also been claims of an unknown substance being discovered on the officer's gear when they were investigating the case. However, when they performed autopsies on the victims, nothing was discovered. There was something wrong with the bodies, a child could see that, but they hadn't figured out what it was just yet. By the looks of it, that was the same thing that had happened here.

Kierman’s eye drew narrow in precipitous recreation when she coughed from his cigarette smoke. He found the essence rather refreshing but it was clear that she hadn’t had exposure to such a craving before. He made the action to blow it in her face to throw her off guard on purpose...or maybe it was more so to tantalize her. He licked his lips selfishly as she drew a frustrated breath. “I suppose it’s poison? Darling, I know it’s poison,” He chortled to himself as he made an ingenious remark. To be impartial, he anticipated her to be more appreciative that he saved her from an unsavable death. Well, he didn’t desire her to get on her knees and denote her gratefulness so he guessed this reaction would do. He plucked another cigarette from its holder but he evidently tapped it against the case with his fingers. It was as if he pended on kindling another but in an unadorned movement, he put it back in its case. He fastened the case closed and jostled it in his pocket, conserving the rest for later.

He never obtained pleasure in communicating with humans. They were invariably uptight about others rather than themselves. They sensibly ruin their lives about what others say and do, perceiving everything personally. Villains were, of course, resolute so they don’t heed for anyone but themselves. There was no choice for villains but for them to act that way. There was no way a villain could withstand the streets by brooding over others. It was life or death, the survival of the fittest. Even if they were in a group, like the Blackout Corps, at the end of the day there was no vacancy for caring for others, even if they have each other’s backs like family. It honestly made life simpler for them. Humans, however, made themselves stir-crazy with caring about others. Seeing humans both literally and figuratively sacrifice themselves for others came off ludicrous. He never understood it. “Ahh right. You do need to ask me more questions,” He uttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He anticipated being off the loose for having to restlessly dispute interrogations. It wasn’t that he would have to come up with an assemblage of lies, but merely because he had to exert the enthusiasm for a trifling matter. He solely craved to lead her to resolve it was someone else so he could bring his beloved apprentice home. The moment he released his hand from his hair, lustrous strands slipped in his eyes, desperate to be trimmed. Along with the imminent umbrae from the alleyway and the melodious whispering wind, heaving his hair every so often made his ominous aura worsen. His eye snapped at her when she requested how long he had been there. So, she was skeptical of him? She couldn’t make it more comprehensible. The way she quailed but forced her chin up was fairly adorable. Kierman was distinguished as relentless for compelling villains to shiver in their own skin by just being in the same room. He never presumed it to work on humans as well, even though he was doing nothing but existing. “Of course, it was before you arrived. Didn’t you just hear me say that I thought you were the culprit? Well, that was before I realized that you were an investigator,” Kierman’s eye gesticulated towards her gun holster, presently retreating to her padlocked gaze. He lowered himself by leaning forward to match her height, not caring to bend his knees. His hands lingered in his pockets as he looked her in the eyes. His one eye twinkled with enthusiasm yet there was still this aura about him that came off pessimistic. It didn't accommodate that his other eye was bandaged, making him even eerier. It was apparent that he was stringing the information along to buy time for himself, but his intentions were unclear. “I had arrived maybe...a minute before you showed up,” His face grew complexed as he hoisted his figure to its original height, leaning back on his heels. His hand squeezed his chin, his eye dancing left and right in profound thought. Kierman had given the question some thought as to persuade her. He actually was there for approximately five minutes, looming over the bodies in hopes to get a lead on where his juvenile apprentice is located. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

He drew a breath, astonished that she conducted more questions. She seemed agitated, aspiring to get the inquest concluded so she could get away from him. Even her eyes told him that she was anxious by his presence. She was easier to interpret than Kierman foresaw. “Anything suspicious?” He hummed out of his throat, reciprocating part of her question. The way he behaved was as if she declaimed in an unconventional language. He grew soundless as he thought up an answer. “Nope, I don’t believe so.” He tapped his lips before smirking irrationally. Kierman had nothing to hide. His eyebrow exalted when she abruptly clarified that she didn’t know what she was doing. Well, that was one thing she shouldn’t have told him. If only she knew he was a villain. He could have very well been intimidated by her just on the mere fact that she operates for the VK, forcing him to back down if he had villainous intentions. It was a pity that he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Oh, so you are a rookie then? Yeah, I assumed so since you were rather naive,” He swiveled on his legs, eyeing the bodies. He didn’t care to be a bit unrelenting with her. He was seeking to accommodate his personality consequently to dwindle her suspicion of him but he wasn’t going to force himself to be docile nor bound around in unadulterated rapture. Basically, he had to place a facade over his villain tendencies. Don’t speak nor make the actions of a villain, it was that easy to act human. “My name is Kierman. Feel free to call me Kier.” He let out a wearied sigh. Kierman wasn’t repelled to declare his name. The VK had no other erudition on him other than his villain nickname, the scar on his face, and the video of him, which was too obscure to even get information from. That meant his authentic name wasn't in the records. To her, he was like every other human being. “But isn’t an investigator reckoned to mention their name when asking an implied witness some questions?” His temper was cunning but unknowingly came off rude. He closed his eye, tensing his jaw before reopening his eye. “I didn’t mean to be so cunning. What I meant to state was that I didn’t catch your name,” His voice was subtle now. Kierman had uncontrollably vocalized words to ridicule her but now was when he needed to take the situation somewhat seriously. After a moment of reticence, he elected to change the subject. “I am under the impression that this is a villain case? Since there are no police here?” Now he was becoming serious. His lips slimmed and didn’t display that richness it once did. His visible eye even grew dull. Kierman's tone remained subtle but he terminated the goofy simpers and delighted expressions. His jaw clenched as he dragged his attention span away from her. “I’ve dealt with villains before so I am used to death,” His tone hitched before he continued. Kierman wasn’t fundamentally pained, but it did bother him to speak on this subject. “I guess you can say one tried to take everything from me,” He wasn’t lying about what he said. He was referring to the incident but of course, she wouldn’t know that. Inferno...his mentor...his friend...tried to take away his power out of a concealed resentment towards Kierman. His fist clenched at the mere thought of it. But he knew mentioning something like this to a human would make her exhibit pity for him. When humans feel humanity that is how they grow relations with each other. It made zero sense to Kierman but that was how they were. If she felt compassion for him then he would be able to take advantage of her easier in the future, at least with the case. It wasn’t like he was deceiving her. Nothing of what he addressed was a lie. He was naturally speaking as though he was a human. It wasn’t like he should announce that he was a villain and expect her to trust him. He simply needed to get this over with.

He swiveled on his legs once again, but he decided it wasn’t the best idea to approach the dismembered bodies. Kierman subtly cleared his throat. “Well, I guess the only information I can give you is that the culprit must be a poison user. Ya know where they make poison from their hands or whatever villains do,” Finally he deciphered a smile again, gesturing with his hands as he expressed. He undoubtedly acted bewildered about villains just to diminish her surmise about him. Now was the time he needed to start framing another villain.