Morning in the East District is basically night with extra depression. Sunlight doesn't reach here — not because of pollution, but because even light refuses to pay rent in this area.
Blizzard lounged in his underground office, sipping expired energy drink and watching cat videos hacked from someone's private folder.
Selene walked in, phone in hand, expression grim.
"We've got a situation," she said.
Blizzard raised an eyebrow. "If it's about the orphanage explosion, that wasn't me this time."
"Worse. Chaos Sovereign just sent this."
She dropped her phone on the table. A video played.
It was a conference room inside the FBI's cybercrime division.
A man with sunglasses indoors — because he was legally allergic to looking uncool — leaned back in a chair. He wore a suit, a tie with anime characters on it, and a smug smirk that said I blackmail my boss for a raise.
That was Chaos Sovereign, Blizzard's FBI mole, currently pretending to be "Agent Kevin Stormwell."
"Gentlemen," he said to the board, "the criminal empire we're tracking is called MVL. But I assure you — they are complete amateurs. In fact, I volunteer to lead the task force… so I can embarrass them personally."
Everyone clapped.
Blizzard grinned. "He's thriving. How many agents did he get fired this week?"
"Four. One cried in the bathroom. On video."
Selene sat across from him, tossing a paper folder. "Also, our sword-obsessed lunatic is back."
Cut to: A rooftop where dreams go to die.
Silent Boy stood barefoot, shirtless, with a giant sword strapped to his back — not sheathed, just duct-taped.
He never spoke. Not because he was mute. He just thought words were "for the emotionally unstable."
He stared at two rival gang members holding guns.
They laughed nervously.
"You brought a sword to a gunfight?"
Silent Boy held up a dry-erase board that read:
"Guns jam. I don't."
Then he kicked one in the nuts, threw the sword like a javelin, and clotheslined the second guy using a bicycle tire he found on the ground.
Back at HQ...
Blizzard watched the rooftop footage on CCTV and nearly choked on his soda.
"Why does he use the same sword he cooked steak with last night?"
Selene didn't blink. "Because it's 'seasoned'."
Fathead wandered in with a donut stuck to his hoodie. "I like Silent Boy. He reminds me of my sleep paralysis demon but funnier."
Chains followed, dragging a giant plastic bag of counterfeit bills.
"We just made $600K off the fruit coke," he grinned.
Fathead: "Fruit Coke sounds like an off-brand soda sold in Ohio."
Selene turned back to Blizzard. "Pier 12's next. New drop incoming. But heavy police activity. Want to send in Chaos Sovereign again?"
Blizzard nodded. "Let the fox keep herding the sheep. Also, tell Silent Boy not to kill everyone. We need at least two survivors this time for… marketing."
Meanwhile, in the FBI break room…
Chaos Sovereign sipped coffee from a mug that said "I'm Definitely Not a Spy."
An agent leaned in.
"Hey Kevin, what's your take on this Blizzard guy?"
Chaos smiled.
"Honestly? Overrated. Probably smells like sadness and discount cologne."
He tapped a USB into the agency's mainframe. A loading bar appeared:[Uploading MVL data to Blizzard's server… 89% complete.]
He took another sip. "I heard he also writes fanfiction about FBI agents falling in love with criminals. Sick stuff."
Back at MVL headquarters...
Blizzard received the files. All of them. Every drug task force file. Every secret arrest warrant. Even an agent's TikTok account where he did thirst traps in uniform.
Blizzard smirked.
"We don't run from the system," he said, raising his can.
"We make it subscribe."
Everyone in the room lifted their drinks — soda, beer, juice boxes, whatever was stolen that day.
The crime empire wasn't just surviving.
It was trending.