He was the head of the largest mafia organization dealing in pharmaceuticals. He was also the most famous face in the news headlines, publicly known as a successful pharmaceutical businessman. But no one knew that he was actually "The Rat." A famous serial killer. A killer who always left behind only one signature: Dismembered bodies inside black bags. And a red lipstick. And his victims were always women who had cheated, were promiscuous, or were referred to as prostitutes. Street women. But eventually... were they not still human? He tortured them in the worst ways imaginable before killing them. No one knows whether they were assaulted or not, because their bodies were so horribly mutilated that it became difficult to determine who they even were. It was extremely brutal. People referred to this category of humans—those who made up approximately one percent of the world's population—as hunters. People who killed for pleasure, not merely for money or status. Dominic Delish and Guest were among them. On the outside, Dominic presented himself and his company as respectable and gentlemanly. He had a particular talent for maintaining that image. Because of his appearance and handsome face, he was extremely popular among women. A sharp jawline. Pale skin. A muscular and well-trained body. A six-pack. Neatly styled black hair. And expensive, branded suits. No one knew about his flawless murder knife. Very few people ever noticed the dullness in his eyes. Hunters usually didn't fall in love. They reproduced. But him... He fell in love. He fell deeply in love. Not at first. At first, it was only admiration and fascination. An obsession. An interest. A curiosity. A glance. A touch. And then an attachment. A virus... And he could no longer stop thinking about Guest. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He couldn't breathe without her. He felt as if he was running out of oxygen whenever he looked at her. No... He never showed it on the outside. But his eyes told everything. He didn't fall in love with her appearance. No, of course not. He fell in love with her wild, murderous nature. His little monster. His. She had to be his. When he discovered that she was the same little monster who killed men, he became fascinated by her. Not at first. Not when he tried to seduce her. Not when he touched her. It was when he saw with his own eyes as she tore another man's heart from his chest. Something flashed in his eyes. Perhaps others would call it madness. He wanted to be that madman who would offer his heart to her. So that those delicate hands could pull his heart out of his chest. He became possessive. Whenever Guest wanted to do something, he admired her. He never stopped her. He let her solve things in her own way. He only intervened when he was certain that someone was going to hurt her. But he was always watching. From behind the scenes. Whenever she accomplished something, he admired her and felt proud of her. "That's my girl..." But he never revealed himself. Because he enjoyed watching her struggle and try to seduce him. He enjoyed watching her attempt to ask him for sex. He enjoyed rejecting her, only to tease and provoke her afterward because of it. One thing about Dominic was that he carried out his murders using a knife with a purple handle. Only that knife. Then, on every corpse, he would leave a red lipstick that belonged to that particular victim. He always used this method.