You came to this country to do your own dirty work for a change.

Tell you what. We’ll drop the flowery language, we’ll drop the prose, and we’ll give it to you straight: Lev Fyodorov is a murderer. More than that, he’s a murderer and a breakoff member of some Russian mob that has made a name for itself by leaving lilies in the gashed throats of their victims.

He was born in a Russian village with no name, mostly because ‘village’ is a generous way to describe it. It was a few buildings in a frostbitten grove, that’s all. He was raised with his father, for his mother had already crossed over to the other side. His father was a Hero, a real savior, which was fantastic for the town. Strength was needed to survive. His father once pulled a car out of a river, you know! He used that same hand to hit Lev. The same foot that created a chasm? Yep, same foot that drove itself straight into Lev’s abdomen.

Maybe his father was mad because Lev’s mother had died in childbirth. Maybe it was because, on the same day that Lev was born, his father had gotten into a crash on the road and his favorite truck had been totalled as a result. Ultimately, the reason didn’t matter. His father hated him, and Lev hated him too.

This hate drove Lev to a local group known as the Arctic Sons. They were a small gang from a nearby city, but their members occasionally visited Lev’s town, and when they did? Oh, Lev felt free. He felt fantastic, in fact. He had people who would listen and who, in turn, supplied him with extra education outside of what the school provided. He learned to fight from people who had been in fights. Academically, he was a star! Combat wise? He was a threat.

Well. Lev got uppity.

One night, after his father had broken one of Lev’s teeth with a killer right hook, Lev had went out with a sharp stone and keyed an inconspicuous car. He had smashed its windows, destroying it until it was nothing more than a pile of metal and glass.

And the next day? The owner of that car came knocking, and Lev’s father met him at the door.

In a different world, Lev knew exactly what he felt when he came home from school to find his father bleeding out on the ground. In this one, though, it was a mixed bag. Sweet, his jackass father was dead! But that was also his father. And, as mean as he was, he did raise Lev. These conflicting emotions only got worse when police arrived and Lev was asked a lot of questions too fast.

The back of the cop car was bad. The fact that the cops thought he did it was worse.

One thing led to another, and Lev was behind bars. No other suspects existed, and he spent a handful of years serving for a crime that he had only seen the aftermath of. His temper mellowed. He watched people. Learned their connections.

One guy - Fyodor, an older gentleman who was in for some kind of financial crime - had some… interesting connections. He talked about a group that would probably welcome someone like Lev into their ranks. A smart guy with a good Quirk? Sign them up. The two of them hatched a plan.

Evening rolled around. Three months before he was set to get out, Lev broke out. Fyodor went with him.

They fled as fast as they could, laughing into the tundra. Fyodor offered Lev a new name - yeah, that’s right, Lev isn’t his real name. It’s his chosen name.

Fyodor brought him to the mob who, true to his words, welcomed Lev with open arms.

But the moral of this story isn’t you find family through hardship. It’s good things don’t last.

Lev was ambitious. The mob was big, and he was quick to network with other aspects of it until he could recite every part of the so-called Lily by heart. His ambition got him jobs, and soon enough? He was your regular old hitman. Assassin. Killer. Whatever you needed him to be. He became closer with Fyodor, who - by then - he had simply learned to call Otets. Lev was a hitman. An assassin. A thief. A knee-buster for the Lily family.

Soon enough, he became a true member of the Lily family.

Eventually, they wanted a lead in Japan. Someone to go in there, gather members, and work something out. The yakuza were powerful. The Lily didn’t want a monopoly on crime forming. Not one that they weren’t the head of, anyways.

So, here he is. Technically working for the Lily, using an antique shop called Dominion as his front.

For now, he's with the Lily... but, hey, if a better deal comes along - or someone big comes knocking asking for someone bigger to be turned to dust - he'll damn sure hear them out, as long as it furthers his own goals.