If one traversed deep into the residential district, past the main city and well-to-do neighborhoods, they would encounter the downtown area.

And if one perhaps decided to go even further, then they would discover the slums, a labyrinth of low-rise buildings that one could only traverse on foot.

And by foot, a familiar woman traversed this land with a kind of casual glee that could only be possessed by the likes of her, a lollipop in her mouth.

In this dim evening (where shadowy clouds swallowed the sun) she wore a glaring bright rainbow hoodie over her delicate frame, her flip-flops making soft slapping sounds on the damp, uneven ground.

The air around her smelled of overused grease and open sewage, but she seemed utterly unbothered, nor was she bothered by the men who cast leering gazes at her, or the prostitutes who whispered to one another upon seeing her.

Rather, she focused on traversing the cracked path, ducking under old, leaning buildings or ramshackled husks of rusted metal and rotten wood.

Walking beside her one could see a figure clad in a dark hood that seemed straight out of medieval times. Though he looked ridiculous, his attire served its purpose of hiding his presence (not because it helped him blend in (he stuck out like a sore thumb) but because his partner drew all the attention to herself).

The cloak did, however, conceal the person's figure rather well, his steps steady as he followed after Amethyst.

But at that moment, Amethyst stopped, her eyes narrowing as she heard something, her steps transitioning into a light jog.

"Big sister?" The clocked figure muttered and followed, his cloak fluttering with the wind.

Soon he caught up to her and found Amethyst amid a group of large men in an alley, her form pushing through them in an attempt to better hear the radio.

"Mad bitch-"

"Who da fuck is you?"

Surprised exclamations rang out from the men around her, shocked at the young woman's audacity.

One of them, a bald man in a wife-beater, did not share their shock; rather, he narrowed his eyes at the sight of Amethyst.

"Hoo," he let out a puff of smoke while nodding to one of his buddies, a shorter man with a muscular build wearing a blue T-shirt.

"Big sister," the cloaked figure tried to beckon to her when he noticed that the alley was half filled with visible smoke.

The men were spread out, drinking, playing cards, and listening to the radio. It all seemed like good fun.

[...authorities have confirmed the message was a direct response to the killer known as 'The Artist.' The phrase 'When did you become a rat, Artist do you feel threatened?' suggests a potential turf war or a personal challenge between these two killers. The investigation is...]

"Bam!" Amethyst suddenly slammed hard on the radio, causing the device to buzz oddly before it stopped playing, an odd, prolonged silence lingering in the air.

All eyes turned to Amethyst, but the woman did not seem to care. Rather, her eyes narrowed in deep thought, the playful look in them fading by the second.

She then tilted her head slightly, the faint electric blue shimmer in her black hair catching the light for an instant as more men walked into the alley.

The cloaked figure felt the gazes of a few people behind him, and when he turned, he saw several men standing at the alley's entrance, most likely another group of hooligans, all dressed in black.

'She's like a magnet,' he thought calmly, watching the men as they watched him.

Amethyst also seemed to have noticed the development as well. For her glowing crimson eyes, which had been passively observing the decay, now narrowed as they scanned the men with unknown intent. Then a smile spread across her lips. "Hey, boys, nice weather today, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hahah! We sure do!" The leader of the hooligans blocking the alleyway entrance chuckled lightly in response. He was a lanky youth with a knife scar bisecting his eyebrow, his light laugh exposing his yellowed teeth.

"Well, well. Look what the tide washed in," the bald man inside the alley sneered, his eyes crawling over Amethyst's colorful hoodie before he spoke, "Ya lost, rich girl. This ain't no place for a rainbow."

A low chuckle erupted from his companions at those words, their movements intense as they stepped slightly closer to Amethyst and the cloaked figure.

"Big sister?" The cloaked figure spoke, his voice steady, but Amethyst remained quiet.

The bald man, who seemed to be the leader of the men inside the alley, was disgusted by the cloaked figure's remark. "You want ya big sister to save you, faggot?" he sneered

"He ain't done cosplaying. Leave the fag alone," another person chimed in, and laughter erupted in the alleyway.

"I suddenly want to traumatize another young soul. Hey, kid, how would you like to see your big sis get fucked?" the one with the scar said as he took a step closer, his gaze dropping from Amethyst's face to linger on her body, his intent as clear as the filth on the ground.

"You better get a move on, Big Joe. This gal is my bitch," the bald man in the wife-beater said as he stepped forward as well, his muscles bulging slightly.

Big Joe smiled at those words, his breath light as he raised both his arms, "I ain't got no problem going seconds, you can have the bitch first."

"I'ma do more than have the bitch," the bald man spoke with a scoff, his words inciting yet another series of chuckles from his group.

"Yeah, let's fuck the bitch up! We'll shove our dicks in all her holes until she's overflowing with cum," a giddy, female voice cut in, bringing everyone's attention back to Amethyst, who now had the widest smile on her face.

"You think ya funny bitch," one of the bald man's men walked up to Amethyst and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her towards his form with a violent shove.

"Thwack!" What followed appeared to be Amethyst throwing a lightning-fast punch at the man's throat, blood spewing like a fountain as he staggered with widened eyes.

He then fell to the ground with a thud, his body convulsing as more blood leaked out from his punctured throat.

"Shit! She's got a knife!"

"Fucking bitch," the men cursed at the sudden development, barely able to suppress their rage, as two to three of them swarmed towards Amethyst at once.

"That's not fair," the red-eyed woman muttered and stepped back, but in the next moment, one of the guys caught onto her from behind.

"Bam!" The clocked figure, on the other hand, was pushed against a wall by one of the men, his form calm as he merely observed.

"Sit still, fagot, and watch ya sister get cracked," the bald-headed man spoke, as he rushed up to Amethyst, retrieving a small knife from his pocket as well.

"Ohh no," Amethyst suddenly exclaimed in a dramatic over-the-top fashion, as she struggled within the unknown man's grasp, her knife falling on the floor with a clang.

"Hold her still, Ralph," the bald man laughed as he approached, yet in that instant, he fell, seemingly tripping against himself.

"Haha, you're that excited, old man?" Big Joe chuckled when he saw this, but the smile left his face when he saw the balled man try and fail to rise to his feet once more.

The cloaked figure scoffed at this sight, shaking his head slightly as though sorry for the men.

"What the fuck is this?" The balled man groaned as he tried to stand, but it felt alien, deeply unfamiliar, a conscious effort that he had to maintain.

"Boss?"

"You okay big man?" Two of his men tried to help him up immediately, hauling his body by his two arms.

When he finally rose, his knees buckled, his gaze expressing deep confusion.

"You okay, big man, still waiting on that whole rape thingy," Amethyst's voice sounded out, both her arms held behind her back by Ralph, a rather robust man.

"Shut up bitch," Ralph suddenly spoke, his words catching in his breath as he felt something, a sense of impending doom, 'I'm about to die-' he thought.

"Badump-" In that moment, he felt his heartbeat seize, and in seconds, his vision began to dim out.

"Bang!" The crowd gasped as another man fell to the ground, his form unmoving this time, lifeless.

But that was only the beginning, as more and more men began to fall, including the one who held the cloaked figure still.

The men who had fallen now lay motionless on the ground, their deaths as pathetic as the alley they died in.

Now there were only four men left: Big Joe, the bald man with a wife-beater, and the two men who helped him up.

Big Joe felt his heart pounding in his chest as he thought, 'What the fuck is happening?'

With that, he turned back and sprinted out of the alleyway (or at least he tried). For the moment, he took a step forward, the ground beneath his feet seemingly disappeared, prompting him to fall, his gaze blurring as he collided violently with the concrete.

When his gaze cleared, he found himself lying down in the same alley he was before, but rather than the entrance where he previously stood, he was now much deeper in, behind Amethyst and the bald man.

Quickly, he turned to look behind him and caught a glimpse of what could only be described as a hole in reality closing itself. When he looked forward, he saw the bald man in the wife-beater, still propped up by his men, staring at him as though he'd seen a ghost.

Amethyst looked to the cloaked man who stood by the entrance of the alleyway and smiled at his outstretched hand, "Show off," she chided as she stuck out her tongue, her taunt like that of a child.

The clocked man simply nodded at this sight, his eyes turning to the balled man and his men before turning back to her. "Just make it quick," he said.

Suddenly, Big Joe, who was behind Amethyst, rose to his feet. "Fucking witch!" he screamed, retrieving a pistol from his person. This prompted the cloaked man to raise his hand once more.

"Bang!" He shot it at Amethyst, who had her back turned to him, and in that moment, he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, a bullet-sized hole appearing on his head.

Another hole in reality had appeared mid-air. As Big Joe fired into it, the exit manifested directly behind his own head.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Fuck!" The two men who held the balled man up let him go and took fearful steps back. Their eyes widened, but it was too late to run; their sudden movement attracted Amethyst's gaze.

"Badump!"

Both men also fell to the ground simultaneously, their hearts failing them.

Now, the only one that remained alive in that alley was the bald-headed man wearing a wife-beater, his form trembling as he said, "Please, please don't kill me."

Amethyst did not answer him, she merely observed, a smile on her face when she registered his expression.

His expression was a mix of fear and desperation his body trembling as he crawled closer to Amethyst, "Please-"

"Swoosh!" He suddenly lunged toward her, retrieving a knife from god knows where and taking a wide swing at her.

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