Hours had passed since Klint came to interrupt Faust's sleep and inform him of the situation, so Faust no longer had any excuse to keep sleeping. That was why Klint was standing at his door once again.
Thinking he was asleep, he knocked.
Knock, knock, knock…
Knowing him well, and aware that his sleep was heavy and deep, he assumed he couldn't wake him. He called out loudly through the door:
"It's time, Fau—"
But it wasn't as he expected. Before he could even finish the sentence, he got his answer from Faust.
"I know, I know. Come in."
Oh. So he's awake. How surprising.…
Klint slowly buttoned his white shirt from the bottom up as he entered the room, then closed the door behind him with his foot.
Faust was sitting on his bed with no blanket or cover, wearing jeans with the legs rolled up to his knees and nothing on his upper body. One leg was crossed over the other as he tied his shoelaces.
After finishing the final knot, he put his foot back down, leaned his head against the wall, and turned toward Klint.
Raising his right eyebrow, he said:
"So. How can I help you…?"
Wait a second… That was too damn polite!
Faust immediately shifted his expression into something more contemptuous and, compared to before, spoke in a more serious and rough voice, as if what he had said earlier had slipped out by mistake and he was correcting it.
"What do you want again, damn it!? Can't you see I'm awake? And didn't you finish your own business yesterday? Why are you still dressed like—? Mhm… what do you even call this… work clothes?"
"Do you wear a shirt for jobs that require physical contact and force, Faust?"
"Mmm. I mean, no. I guess not."
"Then that means I'm just wearing it casually, right?"
"Taking all the killing, blood, and pain for ourselves and leaving you the contract work… I really wonder how that stupid idea got into my head. Anyway, why are you wearing it then?"
"I decided to accompany you on your cute, sweet, tiny little task, because…"
"…? …Well, damn it I guess?! Because?"
"Because I thought it might cause a bit of trouble."
Faust's expression changed instantly. His anger was obvious—veins bulged on his forehead, his eyes were gray but almost looked as if they were about to burst into flames. He lifted his head from the wall and straightened his posture.
"Klint. You already send me on jobs I don't like at all. I don't even need to crush or stop anyone. For what reason could there be trouble? Trouble for me?!"
Klint moved his right hand up and down, as if telling him to calm down a bit.
Keeping Faust's aggressive, exhausted gaze on him, he walked across the room until he reached Faust, who was sitting on the bed.
"Could you move over a little? As you can see, there's nowhere to sit."
"Tch. Fine. (-_-)"
Faust slowly shifted to the side until there was enough space for Klint to sit. Klint nodded in thanks, sat down beside him, and then draped an arm over his shoulder.
"Here's the deal, brother. Seems like there's more waiting for us in Winter City than just debt."
"Mhm? I dont get it. Just spit it out you sick fuck!"
Ahem. Ahem.
"The 10th Heir of Victory is apparently near the city too."