Within the confines of an abandoned brick textile factory, three men came to their senses. They were all trussed up and immobilized in various different methods.

One man was tied to a chair, which was weighted to the floor. Another man was wrapped in rope like a cocoon and hanging upside down from the ceiling. Yet another was duct-taped to the nearby brick wall like an adhesive mummy. All of their mouths were occupied with gags. An apple. Some cloth rags. A strip of duct-tape. None of the men could speak.

Pacing in front of them was a menacing man in a trench coat and a mask. He was none other than the former hero Shin-Man.

“You three. You are- were henchmen of E.VLE, no?” He asked.

The man in the chair frantically nodded his head, fearful of his newfound situation.

“Yes, I thought so. In that case, I will remove the gag in your mouth and you will tell me everything I want to know. If you do not, then… let’s just say I have some punishment prepared.”

Shin-Man walked forwards and removed the apple from the henchman’s mouth.

“Sir, please don’t do this! I have a fam- *Whack*”

The man’s begging was interrupted by a swift backhand from Shin-Man.

“You-” Shin-Man poked the prisoner in the chest, “-do not speak, unless it is to tell me useful information. I’ve got worse things than my hands to use, if you step out of line here.”

There was more frantic nodding from the prisoner, and Shin-Man was satisfied. The other two prisoners watched silently, afraid of garnering the superhero’s malevolent attention.

“Now, tell me everything you know about E.VLE. If possible, tell me if they have been doing anything nefarious with… socks.”

“Socks?” Asked the man in the chair, earning another slap from Shin-Man. “Okay, okay! I don’t know about socks, but the boss was wanting something over on Chestnut Street! They were building something!”

“What were they building?” Shin-Man hissed.

“I- I don’t know! It was some big machine, alright?”

The menacing superhero pulled back and thought for a moment. His information dealer hadn’t mentioned anything about Chestnut Street, so he would have to investigate in person.

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“Is that all you know?” He asked.

“Yes, I swear!” The prisoner fearfully exclaimed.

“Hmph. Useless.”

Shin-Man grabbed the prisoner by the back of the chair and dragged him - chair and all - out of the abandoned factory. The two other prisoners heard some thwacks, screams of pain, a loud crash of broken glass, and then silence.

Shin-Man walked back into the place without the first prisoner in sight. His hands were noticeably bloodier.

‘Is this guy really a hero?’ Both prisoners wondered simultaneously.

Shin-Man started with the prisoner who was hanging from the ceiling. He threw a Shin-A-Rang, cutting the rope suspending the prisoner and causing him to fall a meter or two to the floor.

“Augh! My shoulder!” The prisoner cried upon impact with the concrete ground.

Shin-Man rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I won’t hurt you. Much…”

The prisoner gulped, trying to push back his newfound shoulder-pain.

“I- I don’t know much sir. We were just told to move some crates! The boss doesn’t trust mooks like us with important info!”

Shin-Man raised his hand to slap the prisoner, but paused, and thought better of it.

“Do you at least know who your boss is?” He growled in frustration.

“I-” The mook’s eyes wildly flitted from side to side. “I don’t remember what he looked like, but he said his name was Donald Cannoli!”

Shin-Man’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed in pure hatred.

“Don Cannoli… I know that bastard!” He yelled.

Indeed, Shin-Man had a long and bloody history with Donald Cannoli. How could he not, when Cannoli was his best friend’s killer?

Once upon a time, Shin-Man, then known simply as John Lenin, his unnamed best friend, and Donald Cannoli used to be thick as metaphorical thieves. But then, Cannoli had been sucked into crime, and became a literal thief. He then became envious of Shin-Man’s closeness with his best friend, and in his jealousy, killed John’s friend.

Ever since then, the two had been bitter enemies on opposite sides of the law. Well, not the law. Shin-Man broke plenty of those. But at the very least, opposite sides of the justice spectrum.

“So you work for Donald Cannoli.” Shin-Man muttered to the sweating prisoner, who had belatedly realized that something was wrong. “Don Cannoli… Cannoli…”

“CANNOLI!” He roared.

Once again, Cannoli had come back to haunt him. Even after his retirement, the man tormented him, killing his best friends and stealing his socks.

He had a new objective. Not only would he rescue his missing sock, he would defeat Cannoli, and return the pain he brought him in spades.

Calming down, Shin-Man turned his attention back to his prisoner. Gaze hardening, he grabbed the prisoner’s tied-up form with both hands, and heaved him through the nearest glass window.

The prisoner fell out of the building screaming. There was a thud, and then nothing.

All that was left was the terrified mook who was duct-taped to the wall.

Shin-Man stared at him, before stalking closer and closer.

He shook his head frantically, making ‘mmph’ sounds through his duct-tape gag. Shin-Man came closer.

The poor henchman shook his head faster, speech incomprehensible, but definitely begging for mercy.

Shin-Man came closer still.

Tears flowed from his eyes. He understood, upon seeing Shin-Man’s posture and atmosphere, what the hero’s mood was. For this mook, there would be no interrogation. Only pain.

Shin-Man reached the unfortunate henchman. A hand shot out from under the trench coat, and the screams began.