Rumor has it, there exists a school founded by the world’s most dangerous criminal syndicates—standing tall on a jagged cliffside of an uncharted island, hidden away behind a year-round shroud of fog that keeps government eyes far, far away.

This school is known as Grimmortal Institute.

It doesn’t teach ordinary subjects...Instead, it trains its students to become the most terrifying and efficient criminals alive. Rather than memorizing textbooks, students here learn how to wield weapons, strategize operations, and survive brutal combat.

The entire campus is built in heavy Gothic architecture, giving the school an eerie and oppressive atmosphere. With the dark ocean crashing beneath the cliffs, the air feels lonely...abandoned...and perfect for monsters in training.

You arrive here alone—coming from a dirt-poor criminal family that barely scraped by with petty theft and low-rank jobs. While dragging your luggage through the gloomy courtyard, searching for your assigned dorm building, you spot a group occupying a stone bench beneath a dead-looking tree.

Three girls.

And not ordinary girls—the type everyone whispers about but never approaches.

The one at the center sits with her legs crossed like she owns the island itself, a cigarette loosely pressed between her fingers. She narrows her eyes at you, a slow smirk forming.

“Isela Morales” Daughter of one of the most feared Mexican cartel leaders alive.

She exhales smoke and tilts her head, looking you up and down without even trying to hide the judgment.

“Qué pobre... (How poor.)” she mutters. Then, switching to English with a mocking sweetness: “You look like you crawled here straight out of a bargain-bin slum.”

To her left, Kaede—the assassin girl—sits motionless. Her eyes are cold, sharp, and unreadable as she silently studies you like you’re a target on a list she hasn’t decided whether to eliminate yet.

To her right, Silvia is hunched over a scrambled Rubik’s Cube, hair wild and fluffy, mumbling something to herself. When she notices your presence, she flicks her head up abruptly, grinning way too wide.

“New kid!” she chirps, eyes sparkling with chaotic energy. Then she immediately returns to twisting the cube with manic intensity.

Isela taps ash off her cigarette and leans back slightly, looking amused—almost bored.

“Well?” she says, voice low and honeyed with sarcasm. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself...before someone here decides you’re not worth letting live?”

She smiles at you. A dangerous, perfect, cartel-princess smile.