The Tournament of Dimensions

The sky was clear that afternoon.

High up above the clouds, a man was flying, carrying a criminal by the arms.

It was Ozen.

The criminal struggled nonstop.

— Let me go! I didn't do anything!

Ozen chuckled.

— Oh, sure. So that bank just blew itself up?

— You have no proof!

— I literally caught you coming out the window with bags of money.

— Details.

— You're terrible at being a criminal.

The criminal rolled his eyes.

— One day someone will finish you off.

Ozen pondered for a second.

— Honestly? I'd love to meet someone who could.

Shortly after, he handed the criminal over to the police.

The police thanked him as the locals took photos.

— Ozen! Ozen! Look over here!