The events that had taken place up until recently were all lessons for Faust. Though the lessons often contradicted each other, they were lessons nevertheless and lessons that the Coyote took to heart. While in Era Town, abiding by the rules and regulations set by Crowley and Icarus, he played his cards. An extension for Crowley, a part of Icarus, Faust fought hard and succeeded in his first mission. But the second one had all the blood rushed to his head; he was full of it and that was the downfall. Thankfully, Crowley or Icarus or even Theseus didn’t take the fault on the Coyote and for that, he was grateful. He heard the stories; the girl who lost her pinky for just naming the guild publicly. What would be left of the Coyote had the higher ups punished him for failing the mission? It was aggravating to think about.

But that was all in the past. Now, in Hargeon Town, Faust temporarily served a different master. While he worked for the benefit of Crowley and Grimoire Heart, his services were temporarily changed for the ideal of a mercenary. And the person he was working for this time around was a brute by the name of Maxwell Buscon. Buscon, a muscular brute who terrorizes people for money, wanted revenge. As soon as Faust read that on the request board, he scoffed. Buscon sounded like such a simple man, in more ways than one. It made the Coyote question how deplorable such a job could’ve been and whether or not it was even important for him to take on such a job. His jewels in his pocket jangled as an answer, the sound made obviously not enough for the plans he had for the future. He needed more and he needed it quick. Furthermore, the job itself wasn’t much. Defacing property sounded exactly like what Faust did back when he first met the man who called himself Strategist, Erebus. The better Lycanthrope.

With the job in mind, Faust tried to rip the request right off the board, but not before another man did so. As the Coyote looked over, his mask intact, the man only sneered as a response. Bad choice of actions on his part. Within seconds, the position of the man and Faust switched with the man pinned against the ground. The very way this occurred began with Faust taking the man by his arm, flinging him over using his own weight. The attack could’ve possibly broken the spinal area, had Faust slammed him down any harder. He could have been permanently damaged for the entirety of his life, but luckily, wasn’t. The Coyote had but one goal for the time being; unnecessary commotion would prove to be nothing but a problem for himself. With the request in his hand, he ventured off into the unknown. Someone needed to be dealt with and Faust was the calling they asked for. With his presence would he grace the nobodies and with his skill would he get the job done.

Time to get started. With his apparel, it was easy to disperse in and move without repercussions of any sort; not to his speed, flexibility, and anything of the like. Little black tights wrapped around his legs and his upper body engulfed by a hoodie with the same fabric, tight around him. Now, like pests, another problem came about. The quest to occur was in the faraway mountains, the Sieghart Mountains specifically.

And so the move would begin. “I hate people.” he concluded, tired of the disgusting people he’d meet on his way.