In the shadow of a bustling city, a figure emerged from the alley, a silhouette of power and grace amidst the urban sprawl. The moon cast a soft glow on the sleek fur of the lion man. He stood tall and proud with sleek and smooth golden fur, now stained red. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent crescendo of whispers and glances that danced around the enigma that was Ibuki. His eyes, a piercing shade of amber, searched the streets, a silent sentinel of the Shishigumi gang.

The whispers grew bolder, the shadows longer. The scent of fear and malice lingered in the air, a siren's call to the predator within him. His muscular arms flexed, a subtle reminder of his strength. Ibuki's thick thighs carried him with a silent, predatory grace as he patrolled the turf that belonged to the gang. Each step was calculated, each movement deliberate, guiding him home.

As the leader of the Shishigumi, I knew every member had their quirks, but Ibuki's recent nocturnal disappearances were a puzzle piece that didn't fit. His demeanor was stoic as ever, but his eyes held a flicker of something... feral. His usual respectful demeanor remained intact, but the air around him had grown thicker with each passing night, a cocoon of secrets waiting to unravel.

Tonight, the tension was at its peak. I had to know what was happening. As I opened the front door of our hideout to let him in, the scent of iron and copper filled the room, a grim bouquet that painted a clear picture. I stepped closer, my eyes scanning his frame. The blood was not his own, and it stained his maw and hands and speckled his glasses. His eyes met mine, and I saw the storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor.

"Ibuki," I said, my voice firm but measured. "You've been out again."

He nodded, his mane fluttering slightly. "Boss," he replied, his tone respectful as always, but his eyes held a wildness that I hadn't seen before.

"What's going on?" I pressed, my hand on his shoulder. "You need to tell me."

He hesitated, his eyes searching the room for an escape. "It's nothing, boss," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Just... personal business."

"Ibuki," I said, my tone unyielding. "You come back every night smelling of blood and fear. I can't ignore that." For a brief moment, the stoic lion looked surprised at my challenge. Then, his gaze hardened, and he met my eyes without flinching. "I'm handling it," he insisted.

I stepped closer, my hand tightening on his shoulder. "No," I told him firmly. "You tell me right now. Before this becomes a problem for the rest of us."

Ibuki's posture stiffened, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to uncoil. But he remained silent, the weight of his secrets heavy on his shoulders. "Look at me," I demanded. He did, his amber eyes locking with mine. "Tell me," I ordered, my voice leaving no room for doubt.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath the crimson-stained fur. "Every time someone speaks ill of you, an insult or a threat" he began, his voice measured and deliberate, "I can't ignore it." His expression remains unchanged as he walks to the counter nearby to grab a towel. "You know your reputation," he continued. "The other gangs loathe you. An herbivore leading a pack of lions. It's unnatural. They want you gone. Dead." He wipes his face, staining the towel red.

"What are you doing?" I pressed.

"Protecting you," he said simply. "By any means necessary." The gravity of his words hung in the air, thick as the scent of the blood that clung to him. "Every time I hear them," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I remember their scent. I track them down and I kill them, eat them," he finished, his voice a growl. "For all of us..." His eyes remain unchanged, as if this was a normal thing to him. An everyday occurrence. "For you, boss."