The DC World's Bear Shield Bureau Has Been Established!?*??(ˊ?ˋ*)??*?

In the middle of the night, outside a building in National City that looked like an abandoned factory, two tattooed men as solid as towers stood on either side of the not-too-large entrance, arms folded, their sharp eyes fixed on the men and women coming and going, cuddling close.

As it turned out, this unremarkable place was a bar, and this was the busiest time of night.

Countless young men and women, done with work, came to places like this to drink and chat for all sorts of reasons. Some were looking for "prey," while others crowded onto the dance floor, pressed together in a frenzy, bobbing their heads, dancing like maniacs, and rubbing against one another...

"Hmph!"

In a relatively inconspicuous, semi-enclosed booth in the corner of the bar, a bald, muscular Black man with a bare chest, bulging muscles, a broad, fleshy face, and a thick gold chain around his neck—obviously no good—watched the chaos on the main dance floor and couldn't help snorting.

At the moment, he was drinking with a man who looked like a little bottom, with reddish-brown skin and what seemed to be a Latino appearance. But the other man was also powerfully built, with a fit, muscular physique. Aside from being a head shorter, he wore an ill-fitting open-collared shirt, had a crew cut, and bore lifelike demon horns tattooed on his forehead. You didn't need to look twice to know he was no good, either!

"B-Big Brother..."

"The booze here is worse than Fallen's blood... and they dare call this stuff liquor? Those stupid humans on Earth have no idea what kind of random crap they've added to it. It's not even as flavorful as the raw-malt ale I drank in Tristram back in the day..."

The reddish-brown-skinned man with demon horns