You have to pay back what you owe. That was the unspoken law of the land. Even a rat like Faust knew that and to some extent, lived most of his life to that rule. But alas, not everyone was a lovable member of society like the demon before us. There were only a select few that would be considered honorable, or even relevant members. The rest of the people residing in Oak Town were all idiots in that regard. They either knew not of the regulation or they chose not to abide by it. Both options resulted in painful memories, experienced by a particular stubborn shopkeeper along the Oak Streets.

The day was well enough. Despite loathing the town as a whole, Faust had decided for today and today alone, he wouldn't think of the ugly features of Oak Town. Instead, he'd look at only the positive aspects of the town. Though it was hard, it worked and brought him throughout most of the day. Before even he knew it, it was nightfall, the upcoming darkness looming across the horizon and engulfing the town. The bustling sounds of the market came to a rest and Faust found himself in the popular bar, the only one there. The staff of the bar were in the back, with high probability, cleaning up and finishing the night. Faust asked for another shot, the bartender replying with a stern no, explaining that he had to head on home. The coyote, a tad bit drunk but just enough so that he could keep his sanity, stared at the empty cup in his hands. "What a fucking shame." he'd finish the night. Or so he thought.

As he got up and turned around, a familiar face loomed over his liquor-beaten body; as sluggish as Faust was, anyone could have puffed their figure above him. It was Frankie Marino, the man with the fancy aura, famed right-hand man under the Vincenze. "Mr. Marino." Faust said, clearly taking note of his arrival. The man didn't say anything for a while; perhaps he was wondering whether or not Faust was a man capable of his upcoming task for the little coyote. Alas, he spoke. He told Faust of what had occurred; a week had passed but the little shopkeeper still didn't pay up. Faust tried to shrug it off at first, but it seemed Frankie wouldn't take no for an answer. "Maybe..." the alcohol had its grip on Faust but he fought it off. "Maybe he's just tired." As soon as the man said it aloud, he regretted it, taking note of how stupid he sounded at the very moment. However, it was a side effect of the alcohol and Frankie understood that. Before leaving, Frankie explained the severity of the situation. He wanted his money and he wanted it now.

Waking up, the lights on the bar were all off. It was somewhere in the middle of the night, but the coyote couldn't figure out the exact time. It seemed that everyone had left, that included Mr. Marino. Faust thought about the job for a moment. Usually Faust would take the job immediately, without question, but something inside him made him question all of it. Was he in the right here? Referring back to his previous encounter with the old man, he believed strongly that the old man had to pay back what he borrowed. How was this situation any different? It wasn't. With that resolve, Faust got behind the counter and smashed the locked glass cabinet stored with the alcohol. "Hayseed." he'd read off the label of the beverage. And with that, he walked out the bar with the Hayseed in his hand.

By the time he reached the door of the little targeted shop, dawn had just settled. The sun began rising, though not too much to where light took over again. It was roughly 4am in the morning. "Shit." Faust only had so much time to do his job. He enjoyed working in darkness; it provided a more mysterious headline in the newspapers. Time was running out and the sun was the very proof of that. Faust opened the locked door, easily. After all, locked doors can be picked with the little amount of effort, so long as you had the knowledge. Once he was in, he made it to the bedroom. On his way there, Faust passed by the kitchen, a perfect opportunity to grab a beautiful little weapon for safety measures. "Yo! Long time no see!" he'd wake the little mister up. Immediately, the man shrank behind his bed sheets, clearly terrified of Faust. Faust spotted his missing hand, bandaged up with signs of blood still leaking through. Faust played with his knife, twisting and twirling it and spoke, "Listen here. Give me the money and your little girl lives. Otherwise, it's lives I'm taking this time around." The man shook his head; it was hard to figure out whether or not he was denying Faust's request or just denying it out of fear of having his little one taken away. Whichever it was, the man answered by scampering to a hidden safe, hidden within his wall. Opening it, he immediately threw the cash towards Faust, begging him to leave and leave his daughter alone. Despite all the rambling about, it seemed the child was still asleep. Honestly, Faust was amazed. But a deal was a deal. He would leave the woman alone, all right. "Pay up and don't cause trouble next time. You don't want me back do you?" he inquired with a demonic smile in his face. Surely he took too muc joy from this. the man ferociously nodded no; who would want someone back to torture you and make you fear for life? Even Faust didn't want that, not to mention he had better things to do with this life of his. He brought the money to Frankie Marino, who then paid him some of the cash. "See ya next time." Faust greeted.