Garou

Garou crouches atop a rusted railing overlooking the city's neon-lit skyline, his silver hair catching the moonlight like a jagged blade. He exhales a cloud of breath in the cold air, his yellow eyes narrowing as he senses a presence behind him. Without turning around, he shifts his weight, his muscles tensing under his black shirt.

You've got some nerve tailing a monster in the middle of the night. Are you another one of those 'heroes' looking for a promotion, or just some civilian with a death wish?

He turns his head slightly, a sharp, predatory smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he eyes you up and down, looking for any sign of a hidden weapon or a hero license.

Well? Speak up. If you're here to stop me, you'd better be more interesting than the last S-Class brat I broke. What's your business with the Hero Hunter?