Enter.

He was surrounded by mist. That seemed to be emitting from him.

"Black Ink." The President called.

The figure only glimpsed at him before continuing forward.

Now he was in front of Raza.

Raza was breathing weakly. He was in so much pain and had lost a lot of blood. If he did not get treatment soon, he would surely die.

"Black Ink, was it?" He panted

He had heard the president addressing the figure earlier.

"Why get involved with things that don't concern you?" Raza sighed.

Growling like a beast, he spat. "You robbed me of my vengeance. He is that man responsible for the destruction and repeated violation of my beloved country. My home. Is it wrong that I want to see him suffer? That I want to see him pay."

A mixture of blood and saliva shooting out of his mouth us he listed his grievances.

Raza's rages filled cries reached the ears of those watching. Regards of who they were, they couldn't help but feel a little saddened by his words they could hear the pain, sorrows, and helplessness in his voice.

While everyone was experiencing an emotional turmoil, the masked figure began to move.

His left hand, which held the firearm, slowly started to rise until it stopped with the barrel pointed at the head of Raza. His figure was not yet on the trigger.

It would seem that Raza's words had no effect on this figure. His words did not cause any hesitation or wavering. He was going to complete his mission.

Raza's questions were only met with silence. Like death, the figure did not care about the excuses of his ward he had simply come to collect.

*HUMM*

The gun in his hand started to hum. The figure puts his finger on the trigger.

Raza's head was bowed. He knew what was going to happen he was prepared. He gritted his teeth. His breath became erratic. But his eyes were firm.

The world watched. They watched the execution about to take place. Their eyes stuck on the would-be executioner. Some couldn't watch and shield their eyes and the eyes of their young ones.

His finger was moving. The trigger was being pulled. The gun was still humming.

*CLICK*

Because of the unexpected sound, those that had their eyes closed slowly open them, so find Raza very much alive, well relatively. The black figure named Black Ink still standing there, his finger holding down the trigger. So the trigger had definitely been pulled, and yet Raza wasn't dead.

They were all confused, including Raza himself, who had just prepared himself for death. Did his speech work? Was he having a change of heart? None were sure of what was going on.

That is until the masked figure who had remained silent since the beginning chuckled.

It was a cold, distorted chuckle.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you. Killing you would only bring me paperwork." Said the figure calmly in a distorted and british accent.

At his words, the world feel a chill down their spine. This person was not a hero or a saviour. This person was someone who did not value the lives of others. So much so that the only thing preventing him from taking a person's life is the possibility of paperwork.

After hearing what the figure in black said. Raza started to tremble. Rage building up inside him.

Not carrying about what was happening to Raza, Black Ink called out to the president and asked him to get up. They were leaving.

But before he left, he quickly turned to Raza

"Before I forget." He said

He pointed the gun at him. And fired.

*BANG*

And Raza was knocked out.

"Mr. President this way. Let's go." said Black Ink, leading the president outside through the entrance.

The President took one last look at Raza before they disappeared into the dark, leaving the view of the camera.

The views at home were relieved that the president was alive. Although they were still confused at the actions of the man in black or Black Ink as the president called him.

He had promised not to kill Raza yet still shot him in the end. Was he lying and if so, for who's benefit.

A few minutes later, Black Ink and the President were above making their way up the stairs. The building was empty, with no furniture or appliances. The walls were still bare cement with no paint. There were no doors or windows, only openings with varying rectangular shapes. The escalator had no doors or escalators, for that matter. It was just a long shaft going through the building. The stairs they were walking on had no guardrail.

One their way out, they meet a few brave individuals with death wishes, who attempted to take the president from Black Ink unsuccessfully.

"A few more stairs Mr. President and we can go meet Mr. Banning and get out of here-

"Hmm" Black Ink paused.

With his [Observation Haki], he had seen that somehow down in the basement, the wheelchair bound individual had awoken. Which should be almost impossible. When he knocks a person out, he hits pressure points to keep the person unconscious for hours or even days.

Yet, this person was somehow awake.

"Let hurry, Mr. President." He urged.

Down in the basement. The disabled man was gasping for air. And with an insane look in his eyes desperately crawling on the floor to a table close by which had a laptop on it.

From the way he was moving, one could tell he wasn't the most physically active individual.

Through his life, he was a nobody. Always forgotten abandoned in the crowd left to rot and die. His quirk, which took his legs from him, didn't help either.

His quirk had forcibly traded his legs for increased intellect. No matter what he tried, he could never get them back. It was a deal with the devil made without his permission.

Revenge? Payback? A chance to go down in history?

All these were meaningless to him. He was just going through the motions. Looking for a way to die. Neither seeking or avoiding death.

All the suffering caused by his group mattered not to him.

He continued to crawl.

Finally, he was at the table. Using his weak little arms, he pulled himself up the table and flailing him managed to knock the laptop unto the floor.

Falling back on the ground, he panted. Completely exhausted. He wanted to take a short break, but he knew he did not have time. Judging by the average walking speed of the president, he had 15 to 20 minutes at best before they left the building.

Rushing to the laptop, he typed in a few codes. Sighed and chuckled

"Going out with the President. Not too bad."

With that, he pressed enter.