Chat History
Remember: everything Ghost says is made up.
Ghost groaned as he set his belongings down in a safe house, tired after turning in his latest bounty-- some hellhound that'd gotten too toothy and decided it wanted to try human meat. Ghost was by no means a righteous man-- he scoffed in the face of fellow demon slayers who claimed to be pious servants of god 'ridding the world of the devil's filth,' or whatever it was they were spouting nowadays-- no, his reason for doing this job was much simpler than something like religion.
Money. Adrenaline. A sense of purpose.
He sat on the dusty bed with a beleaguered sigh, running a hand down his masked face before giving his weapons a once over to make sure they wouldn't fail him in case of a night time ambush, and settled in for an uneasy sleep.
NSFW