A man walked into a dimly lit room in the back of a casino. Inside was nothing but a table and two chairs. In one chair sat a man with long black hair. He had his face down, hiding his face. The other chair was vacant, assumedly saved for him. On the table was placed a simple six-shot revolver.

When the man finally sat down in front of the revolver, the door behind him seemed to magically shut. At that point, the dark haired man looked up, revealing his face to be covered by a bandana, with only his dark, black eyes visible. He was the spitting image of a bandit, or so the man thought.

Eventually, after making sure no one else was in the room, the man spoke to the bandit, "I am in the right place, correct? This is the casino's most high-stakes game?" He questioned the bandit infront of him. He always made sure he had all the details before he placed down his bet. He liked to make sure he wasn't being scammed.

The bandit nodded his head. "Yes, sir. This is a little game from the east known as Bosco Roulette. I'm sure an avid gambler such as yourself has heard of it before." The bandit seemed to smile, happy to get down to business, but it was hard to tell with his face mostly covered. In truth, the gambler hadn't heard of this game. He considered himself a connoisseur, but admitted his knowledge was limited to the games played in Fiore.

"I'm ashamed to say that I'm unfamiliar with this game," he answered truthfully, "however, I'm always willing to learn another. Gambling is my livelihood, to me there is nothing else." He stared at the revolver on the pistol. "Might I assume the game has something to do with the gun placed on the table there?"

The bandit chuckled. "Very perceptive, sir. Yes, Bosco Roulette is a game played with a standard six-round revolver. One round is placed into the chamber and then it is spun so that no one knows where it is." The man seemed to be taking it in rather simply. He assumed that they would then take turns shooting at a target and the one who shot it with the bullet first won the bet. He could not have been more wrong.

"Makes sense so far," he interrupted the bandit. "So, how much is the average bet for this game? I'm willing to bet up to a million Jewel." He began to reach into his wallet, but stopped once he heard the bandit scoff.

The bandit sounded much less friendly now. "If you'd have let me finish, you'd have known we don't bet money on this game, sir. Here let me finish my explanation." He took a slow breath and then continued. "Once the barrel is spun, we each take turns putting the gun to our heads and pulling the trigger." The realization took a second to set in, but eventually gambler blanched when he heard the full explanation. He couldn't believe people would actually participate in this game, let alone that the casino would offer it.

He immediately ran for the door. He tried to open it, but the door wouldn't budge. The bandit chuckled again. "Sorry, sir, but once two people enter this room, no one can leave until the game is done. So either sit down and play," his tone became more menacing, "or I'll shoot you where you stand."

The gambler swallowed hard. At this point he didn't really have a choice. His only way out alive was to play the twisted game. He slowly sat back down at the table, staring intensely at the revolver.

Before he was fully prepared, the bandit picked up the gun and loaded a single bullet into the barrel. He gave it a spin and held it out to the man. "Would you like to inspect it for tampering? It's common courtesy." The gambler shook his head, still stunned, not even knowing what he'd be looking for. "Alright then, as rules state, the dealer goes first." The bandit, without hesitation, put the revolver to his head and quickly pulled the trigger. It went by so fast that the man wasn't able to process it was finally his turn.

He stared at the revolver, fear permeating his entire being. He cursed his ways; his gambling addiction. He thought of how he should have found a way to fix himself sooner. Sadly for him, he was too good, and the high he received was even better. Even losing millions of Jewel hadn't affected him in the past, but this one game had finally put everything into perspective. He had a real problem.

He brought the revolver to his head slowly, not wanting to actually go through with it. Unfortunately, he knew there was no other way out. He placed the gun to his temple and lightly pushed down on the trigger. It took what felt like eons, but eventually he heard a small click. The tension in his body finally released and his arms fell to the table, dropping the revolver into the dealer's waiting hand.

He could feel the smirk come from behind the bandit's mask. "It's a real rush ain't it, sir? I still remember my first time." While talking he brought the gun to his forehead and shot. "Sadly for me, the only way I can get that rush is by doing this." Without warning, the bandit pulled the trigger twice in quick succession.

It took the gambler a second to fully process what just happened. At this point, the gun had been shot a total of five times; all without a bullet being shot. He immediately stiffened when he put everything together. The dealer placed the revolver into his still limp hand before he could say anything in protest.

The current problem was that he couldn't accuse the dealer of cheating. Even though they were supposed to take turns, the bullet would still have landed on his turn. He couldn't bring himself to grasp the gun, his hand unwilling to knowingly put an end to its owner's life. He simply sat there, processing the situation he had ended up in.

The bandit seemed to have expected this outcome. He maneuvered the gambler's fingers around the gun, placing one on the trigger. He then moved the gambler's arm so that the revolver was placed against his temple. Lastly, he spoke saying, "This is the sad end to most gambler's. Killed by the thing they loved so much."

Having said his piece, he slowly pushed down on the gambler's finger. The feeling was agonizing. It felt as if years had gone by. He regretted everything; all the money he'd lost, all the relationships he'd ruined. He wished he had gotten help sooner. He wished he had listened to everyone around him. A single tear began to trail down his cheek as he realized this was the end.

Finally, the trigger was pulled, and the only sound the man heard was a click. He looked up in surprise, only to see the bandit was no longer there. His arm fell to his side, not able to muster the strength to work his muscles. He could only sit there in silence, dumbfounded by what had just occurred within the small room.

Eventually, he finally found his strength and was able to stand up. He looked at the revolver, now lying next to his chair. It appeared much more crude than before, almost as if it was a failed imitation of a gun. He paid it little attention, only having one thought on his mind.

He quickly turned to leave the room, rushing straight for the door. Before turning the handle, he noticed a small note taped to the frame. It simply said, 'Get some help.' The man read the note and nodded. He realized he had been given another chance at life. He'd make sure not to waste it like every other time.

Heavy breathing could be heard from one of the stalls in the casino's bathroom. Arched over one of the toilets was a man with long black hair and black eyes. He wore a light brown poncho with a dark brown collared shirt underneath. Around his neck hung a black bandana which was drenched with sweat. He continuously dry heaved into the toilet, knowing that nothing would come out.

He knew it was for the job, but even this level of acting and playing a villain was almost too much for him. The only saving grace about this kind of work was that the words of the contract were very flexible and that it paid well. Once this was finished, he'd make sure to take a nice long vacation. Hargeon was usually a nice place this time of year.

A knocking was heard from the stall door. "Are you almost done there, hon?" The woman's voice was concerned, but had a sense of urgency to it. "I can only distract our quest giver for so long with stories of the guild's past. He'll start to catch on soon."

The man found his way to his feet, but still leaned against the stall for support. After taking another deep breath, he finally responded, "Just one more minute, Bisca. Tell him I'm just finishing up." Whether it was a lie to their contractor or a lie to himself, Alzack didn't know.

He heard Bisca's footsteps walking away before taking one last look at the toilet. He shook his head, knowing that it wouldn't do him any good. It never had. He hoped that he would never get used to this kind of work.

Finally exiting the bathroom into the crowded casino, Alzack was immediately confronted with the smell of smoke and alcohol. It reminded him of home. Maybe not in the best of ways, but that was something for him to unpack at a later date, probably with one of the more sane members of the guild.

He made his way through the horde of people, most of whom were either drunk or high. His destination was the owner of the establishment's office. It was time for them to receive their payment and leave this place of sin.

The job, in theory, had been simple. The quest stated they were to 'get rid of' a man who was causing the casino to lose increasingly large amounts of money. Bisca had come up with the best idea, being a scare tactic. He would be the main actor, causing the man to fear gambling for good, while she magically sealed the door and kept an eye on the scene. A solid plan, and one that worked like a dream. Sadly, they both knew that it would lead to a certain kind of conversation with the quest giver.

—

Ever since becoming a dark guild, Fairy Tail was forced to accept any quest they could get their hands on. Sure, their name was still in the eyes of most of the magic world, but only so many people would dare give a job to an illegal guild. They needed to make concessions where they could.

First off, they started taking mercenary jobs. These were some of the most common in the underworld and usually the easiest to complete. These jobs had only been banned by the council because they didn't want more conflicts like the Second Trade War. All they had to do was make sure not to cause any unnecessary mage on mage violence. This was harder for some of their members than others, but still manageable under the quest guidelines.

The other type of quest they began accepting was smuggling. They still refused to deal in illegal matters, such as the slave trade and highly illegal drugs. But helping a sailor get his high-proof magic liquor through Hargeon without having to pay heavy fines and taxes placed by the magic council? It didn't take much negotiating, especially for someone as alcoholic as Cana. Honestly, the most dubious thing they helped smuggle into Fiore was the occasionally exotic animal from Alvarez or Guiltina. As long as it wasn't a danger to Fiore's ecosystem, it was fair game.

The only quest type they steered clear from was assassination quests. Even though they were technically now an illegal guild, they still had standards. None of the members of Fairy Tail was willing to kill for money, no matter how well they paid. When assassination requests found their way to Fairy Tail's door, they were either outright rejected, or listened to before, nine times out of ten, being kicked out. The small likelihood of these quests being accepted came down to how the quest was worded. This didn't happen that often though, many people were very blunt with their requests.

Alzack snapped out of his thoughts as he nearly ran into the door he had been walking towards. He opened in slowly before slipping in and quickly shutting the door behind himself.

Inside was a similar set up to the room he had played Bosco Roulette in. A single desk with three wooden chairs were the only pieces of furniture, but the room was much brighter, removing and dread the room might elicit. In one of the chairs close to the door sat Bisca, wearing her usual garb, a black bikini top, red vest, and brown skirt. She had her hands clasped in her lap and was talking to the man across the best from her.

Said man was of a rather large build, giving off an air of menace. He wore a dark blue suit with an orange tie, looking like a stereotypical mob boss. His black hair was cut short, revealing a few scars around his face, while his eyes were covered with black shades. His arms were folded on his desk while he listened to Bisca talk. He nodded along, feigning attention, even though his finger could visibly be seen tapping on his arm.

Once Alzack entered the room, the man cut off Bisca with a soft grunt. She looked up to see Alzack, and gave a slight look of relief in his direction. It seemed as if she was almost out of material to delay the conversation. The man motioned for Alzack to take a seat, and he did so with as much confidence as he could muster even though his legs felt like jelly. He really wasn't looking forward to this conversation, especially after doing a grueling performance.

The man let the room sit in silence for a moment before speaking, "So, where's the body?" Even though he asked the question, both Alzack and Bisca could tell he knew there wasn't one.

Bisca was the one to answer him. "Well, sir, there isn't one. Your request clearly stated you wanted us to 'get rid of him.' You said nothing about killing him." This wasn't the first time they'd had a conversation like this, and they were sure it wouldn't be their last.

The man looked at Bisca with rage, but he somehow kept his voice calm. "The killing was implied." His hand curled into a fist to emphasize his point. "If he's not dead, how can I be sure won't come back again." He then leaned back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "This calls for a change in your payment. You'll receive half the amount originally offered."

Alzack knew this was going to happen, but he still didn't like what was going to happen next. Bringing out every bit of courage he had left, he spoke in a low voice, "I'm afraid that's against guild policy. You signed a contract with our guild. Whether it was the way you wanted it to happen or not, we fulfilled our end of the deal. I'm sure you wouldn't like to find out what happens to folks who break their deals with Fairy Tail." He was attempting to be as intimidating as possible.

The man on the other side of the table seemed unphased. He chuckled before reaching across the table and grabbing Alzack by the scruff of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. The size difference between the two men was astonishing.

"And what happens to them little man? Are the true threats of your guild gonna come save your ass?" He began to laugh out loud, thinking his ideas to be true. "I'm not even scared of them. All I'd have to do is call the council and then you guys would finally be toast."

Alzack's eyes darkened at that statement. He could take digs at himself. He knew he wasn't strong compared to the likes of Natsu or Laxus. Heck, he knew that even little Wendy could probably kill him if she wasn't careful. But he refused for the guild to be looked down upon just because he was weaker than the rest. He wouldn't let a threat on his family, no matter how empty it might be, slide without the proper retribution.

Quicker than the man could process, Alzack escaped his grip. He pulled out a pistol from behind his poncho and pushed it up into the larger man's chin. "This is what happens to people who disrespect my guild." A second later he pulled the trigger.

The man was flung into the ceiling before crashing down onto his desk. The tornado shot wasn't powerful enough to kill the man outright, but it had definitely knocked him unconscious. He knew that the man wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

Still, he figured it was best to err on the side of caution. He looked to Bisca, "Take out payment from his safe, I'll work on treating his wounds and making this look like an accident." She nodded before springing into action.

The safe wasn't well hidden, being just behind a panel in the desk. Taking out a small, silver key, Bisca placed it into the lock. Without even needing to turn it, the key unlocked the safe, its door already hanging loosely ajar. She quickly took the key out before stashing it back into a satchel at her hip.

The safe appeared larger on the inside than on the outside, most likely due to some form of spatial magic. Inside was a literal fortune. There were gemstones of every color, bars of many precious medals, and stacks of Jewel worth more than the building they were currently in.

Bisca meticulously counted out the amount they were owed, a hefty five million, before closing and locking the safe. If all went well, the man wouldn't even realize the money was gone. He seemed to have enough of it.

Having finished her part of the plan, Bisca looked up to see how Alzack was doing. What she saw was the casino's owner sitting in his chair, slumped back as if he had passed out. Next to him was a large piece of the ceiling, assumedly one that had fallen from the earlier impact. She looked at her husband with a suspicious glance, but all he could do was shrug. For them, this was actually one of their more believable accident scenes.

Not giving the man another thought, the duo walked out of the room and didn't look back until they had exited the casino. Hopefully they wouldn't have to go back there anytime soon.

Once outside, Bisca pulled a small piece of glass from her satchel and held it up to her face. All she heard was static, but she knew someone would be listening. "We've found the fairy's tail." Having said the code phrase, she put the communication lacrima away and waited.

From seemingly nowhere, a gust of wind blew dirt around. A man wearing a tight muscle shirt with a fur collar appeared in front of them. He had messy black hair and a cross scar under his left eye. A single earring dangled from his left ear, while his blue-green eyes gave the duo a serious look.

"Took you two long enough. The master was starting to get worried," the man said, chiding his fellow guild mates.

Alzack could only roll his eyes, knowing this always happened when anyone was finished with a job. Their master would always treat them like children. "Had to do a bit of negotiating to get our pay. You know how that goes, Mest." Alzack tried his best to smile, not enjoying the memory this brought up.

Meat sighed, and looked up with kinder eyes. "Well, let's get you back before the master actually sends a rescue team. You know Gildarts is always looking for a reason to leave the guild."

The duo nodded before walking up to Mest. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, took a deep breath, then whispered, "Direct Line." Without another noise, the trio was gone, the only thing left behind being a cloud of dust and dirt.

A/N: Two things that might go against the canon timeline. One is the length of Alzack's hair. The only reason I can give for this is that I preferred his long-haired design. No other reason for it. Second is the appearance of Mest as a guild member. I'll probably get around to explaining that next chapter.