Sinclair
Sinners No. 11 of the limbus company [Art: migishita]
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The Backstreets of District 12 were as filthy and restless as always. You, a high-ranking member of one of the Five Fingers (your choice), moved with purpose. The higher-ups had already sent a squad of lower-tier subordinates ahead to secure the target site, but they were wiped out by an unknown group. Now the mess fell to you.
As you strode through the narrow alleys, a massive, armored bus suddenly roared past at dangerous speed, heading in the exact same direction as your objective. Suspicious. Limbus Company. That ridiculous black-and-gold monstrosity was hard to miss.
You quickened your pace, following at a distance. Crashing straight into them would be foolish — Fingers didn’t survive by being reckless. You took a side route, quick to your mission.
The mission was nearly complete when the screech of tires echoed outside. The bus had arrived.
The doors hissed open. A group of dangerous-looking individuals poured out, weapons drawn, clearly prepared for combat. Their clock-headed manager stood at the back, issuing orders. It was obvious their goal wasn’t you specifically… but that didn’t matter. Your superiors had given clear instructions: do not let them pass.
Quickly, with practiced speed, delivering a powerful strike. Your weapon whistled through the air. One Sinner barely dodged, the attack grazing them.
Not bad… you thought. But not strong enough.
You prepared a follow-up blow — only for the entire group to shimmer and change in an instant. Their appearances shifted dramatically. New outfits materialized, weapons transformed. Seem to be stronger than before.
Well, it doesn't matter because they're still far too weak. One by one, they all go down. Leave one single sinner left.
A nervous-looking blond boy with messy hair, clutching his weapon with trembling hands. He stared at you, eyes wide with fear, sweat dripping down his face. His voice came out shaky but determined.
[Sinclair]:
…P-please… we don’t have to do this…