Stopped Being Him Long Ago

Montana ran a finger to feel the softness of his own cheek. It had been years since he looked so youthful and lively. He was eighteen when his life started going down south. He didn't go to college as he didn't desire for higher education. Passion wasn't something ingrained in him so he didn't know what he could do to make his life worthwhile.

After graduation, he started working in a company as a rank-and-file. Soon enough, he gained experience and skills enough to be a rank-and-file in a Fortune 500 company. His salary and welfare were enough for him, and so he just continued living by copying some of his coworkers.

They wanted to buy a house so he bought one when he could. They talked about a good car so he planned to have one soon. It's just that… Montana hadn't lost his direction; it was more likely that he didn't have one to begin with.

So he stayed steady his entire life.

Being in high school was tough for him—he who had been bashed and shunned for reacting incredibly violently against one simple game. He couldn't fully remember what he had said back then, but he knew he lost control.

Montana just didn't want anyone to summon a demon…

He couldn't remember why he was so against it…

When it's the only reason why he has a leash on his life right now.

"Are you okay?" Mephisto poked Montana's face. "Your mind is in turmoil."

The man looked over his shoulder to find the curious look on Mephisto's face, but he forgot to process the question thrown at him. He didn't even know if Mephisto was talking to him. Montana only stared at him blankly and stupidly… until he remembered to talk. "Did you… say something?"

"Your mind is in turmoil," Mephisto repeated but at a slower pace.

"Oh… just trying to remember things." Montana chuckled nervously before bringing his eyes to his face's reflection on the water again. He hadn't walked out of the bath yet, but the spell had already taken effect. Besides, it was not like he asked for it seconds ago.

Soon enough, he sat up straight on the side of the spring, just outside the water. He and Mephisto had been sitting there for minutes, cross-legged and naked. Caliga had chosen to sleep at a further side as if not letting them disturb him at all.

The witch then began inspecting his body. It was still the same one with flabs and soft muscles. Only his face changed, but he didn't look so unnatural with it. Maybe, if he grew his hair, he would look different from the photos available on-air, on print, and online.

"We should start with the training. I wonder what I should do for now." Montana got to his feet and looked around. The spring was too far from the house so even if he walked out naked from there, the chances of Laquisha seeing him would be so little.

Moreover, he had no courage to do just that.

"Well, let's put some sexy on you, I think." Mephisto laughed out as he stood up and summoned shadows to put on his classic black suit ensemble. He then gestured to the mouth of the cave. "Do you know how to ride a bike? You should begin with exercises to get your cardio up and proper before doing strenuous ones."

"Riding a bike all around the mountain?"

"Yeah, day in, day out."

…

One month was too short for anyone, but with the kind of training Laquisha and Mephisto made Montana juggle night and day, his body was becoming stronger than ever. It wasn't like he wasn't being boosted by magic anyway.

His training regime had completely stopped him from becoming lazy and lying down just because he liked it. Continuous muscle work and speed and power training made up most of his day.

If he was so afraid of standing at the edge of cliff-diving spots when he started, he was now jumping down freely with Caliga joining him. He could also execute a proper roll to reduce the impact of his fall.

Moreover, his muscles were becoming firmer and thicker. The old flabby Montana couldn't even overlay his image on the finished product. He had also grown taller from the enhancements, and he managed to tower over Laquisha now. As for Mephisto, he was still inches too short.

Perhaps the greatest change was his demeanor. Montana might not be the enthusiastic type to begin with, but he started becoming more and more soft-spoken. In the end, he only used his eyes most of the time… and he stopped smiling as a default reaction.

Mephisto saw how someone's inner resentment and anger could turn something so pure into a monster. Every time random men came to pick a fight with Laquisha, Montana wouldn't even talk anymore. His hands would swipe down, and corpses would kiss the ground. Laquisha wouldn't even know what happened to the bodies as Caliga would eat them fast.

After a month of dehumanizing, Montana Mills was ready to go see the organization Laquisha was talking about. He was going to be tested, and she had a good feeling about this. Montana Mills was a witch of Belphegor, a kind she didn't think would be working this way.

She knew that witches of Belphegor would rely on resources alone. It was true, actually, but she didn't know what resources were counted. Most of them would normally have an unlimited supply of things, and they would blow it to feel good—riches, power, skills, etc.

She didn't understand that Montana was indeed blowing his resources to achieve his goal; the resources were nothing else but other powerful demons willing to give him power.

Lady Dione was his second benefactor, next to Mephisto. Laquisha didn't know how Lady Dione got in the picture, but she hadn't even seen Caliga yet. As it was, Montana was like a hybrid werewolf who would clobber people with his powerful claws and unrivaled speed. He was like a hellhound inside a human body.

Seeing this and realizing that it wasn't actually a breach of Belphegor's contract, Laquisha was excited to see how Montana would perform.

As they stood in front of the village gate, Laquisha had a last reminder for him. "Montana, this is the last day I would be calling you that. Like what I said, you are now Noah Rocco. Get used to your new name, okay?"

"I stopped being that person long ago," Noah answered firmly.

"Alright." She pushed the gate open and saw a few figures waiting for them inside. She walked in and dropped her casual smiles. Her stern face regarded all the others before gesturing to Noah. "Curator, this is Noah. I'm here to deliver what I promised."

"Heheh, he didn't seem to be good enough." The curator snorted as he saw how plain Noah looked. He didn't have this awesome air around him, and he didn't look like he could kill anyone. This man seemed to be like a guard dog just lying in the corner while suspicious people stood in front of his master's gates.

"Please, don't underestimate him." Laquisha huffed and placed her hands on her hips. "How should we do the test then? Is there a mission or something?"

"Mission? Ah, yes…" The curator took out a coin from his pocket and reached out to slip it inside a burly bodyguard's breast pocket. "If he could give that coin back to me without anyone stopping him, you two may proceed inside."

Noah looked at the five burly men cracking their knuckles as if intimidating him. He then gazed at the one who held the coin. "Without anyone stopping me… means all of them should drop dead?"

The curator twitched before chuckling. "Would you be able to do otherwise?"

"I can."

"Prove it."

The four other burly men went to attack, and Laquisha quickly retreated to avoid getting caught in the fray. Noah curled his left hand, and magic slowly altered the shadow of his hand. It wasn't visible for now; he didn't need it to show as well. Noah's dark eyes then turned blue in a blink.

He smiled.

When a burly man charged into his direction, he only countered with a swipe of his left hand. Bang! The burly man's arm exploded, and a blood-curdling scream followed. Noah then delivered a fan kick to his head to get him out of the way. He then used the screaming man as a table to roll on and advance towards the man holding the coin.

"Shit! How did he—?!" The curator was frightened. At every swat of Noah's hand, arms would fly into the air. His kicks and punches were also filled with a deathly force that it could stun even the toughest man in their ranks. He retreated for a few steps as he watched the one-sided carnage. "Fuck it, I'm not—"

The curator spun on his heel to run, but a black figure dropped in front of him. Noah grabbed the man's shoulder to make him stop, and the curator felt like a little pee came out. The guard dog then produced the coin on his right hand and reached it out on the man's face.

"Please take it."

'Please take it? Really?! You're insane!' The curator then looked over his shoulder to see the burly men moving like they were having spasms on the ground. Blood was pooling underneath them, and they had no hands to stop the bleeding. He then looked back at Noah and his totality, noticing how free he was from any speck of blood.

His hand took the coin Noah was handing him. "Alright. Greyhound is correct. You can join."

In the back of his mind, he was very anxious. This man was too much; he wondered how many seat holders would perish from defending their seats from him.

"By the way, how should we refer to you? You already thought of a code name, right?"

Noah smiled again, but it seemed to be so sinister to the curator. "Sleepydog."