Fenrir stalked through the streets, now with a purpose. The thieves guild would make a good information network; the only change he would have to make would be having them steal information instead of goods.

Fenrir knew that the best way to control criminals was to intimidate them, and for that he needed to create a personage that inspired fear. He was already using the fox mask, so the boy decided to just go along with the theme. He changed his current outfit into a montsuki, kimono, and hakama, going along with a theme that Sera had called "festive japanese". She had always liked to force him to wear various outfits...

As Fenrir approached his first destination, he placed a pair of sheathed blades, one long and curved and the other shorter, into his belt. He did not intend to draw them; Fenrir wanted the thieves to see an unbeatable foe, capable of forcefully taking over without even drawing the blades by his waist. Now prepared, the boy arrived at the destination, and ignored the door, moving the wooden obstacle with his figure partially shrouded in shadow. Again, this was inspired by Sera; according to her, foxes were often associated with mystery and illusions in japanese mythology, and he felt that this entrance suited him well. He glanced at the startled guard for a moment, and then walked past him without even speaking. The guard only came to his senses once Fenrir was in the entrance of the main room of the guild, visible to everyone in the common room. After hesitating for a moment about whether or not to attack, the burly man jumped over and raised his club, only to find that said club disintegrated the moment he raised it. He stared blankly at his now empty hands. Then he disintegrated as well, still unable to process what had just happened.

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The occupants of the room, almost the entirety of the guild's members, all witnessed the death of the guard. Every single one of them froze, an unnatural terror taking hold of them, to the point that they were unable to move. The fox-masked figure seemed to them as Death himself, shrouded in darkness. Where his eyes should be were shadows, an emptiness that seemed to lead to oblivion.

Fenrir, who had been using his connection with the world as a "god" to unleash his presence, gazed at the room full of hardened criminals, all of whom were trembling in their boots. The boy cocked his head thoughtfully, thinking that his experiment had been more effective than expected.

The members of the thieves' guild shuddered as the dark being tilted its head unnaturally. A few of them even lost control of their bladders. The figure walked over to one of their strongest and most violent members, as if a demon choosing his victim.

"Take me to your leader."[1] The being's voice was inhumanly beautiful, seeming to draw in any who heard it. Listening to the voice was fear itself, and yet the listeners were drawn to it; it invoked mystery and darkness, and yet it was still beautiful. It brought to mind the forest on a moonless night; it was the unknown, and it was danger, but it was an alluring unknown, an alluring danger, an alluring death. It was like the Grim Reaper was beckoning them to death's sweet oblivion.

Once more, Fenrir cocked his head. The man he had questioned had not responded. Rather, his eyes had rolled up into the back of his head and he was frothing at the mouth. This is troubling, the boy thought, turning to another member of the guild, a woman this time.

"Take me to your leader," he repeated, as if the incident with the fainted man hadn't happened.