Gerwulf was once a warrior at heart—a man who joined *The Hound* not for wealth or power, but for the love of the blade. The syndicate, known for its achromatic colors, bloodhound tattoos, and ruthless enforcement, promised strength and discipline. In a city ruled by corruption, they took what they wanted, offering "protection" for a price. But as time passed, the new generation cared less about the sword and more about easy money.

Disillusioned and bitter, Gerwulf drowned his frustration in wine and sake, trading ambition for indulgence. He became a man others dismissed—until the moment he decided to take things seriously. When that happened, the air itself seemed to shift, and those around him learned a terrifying truth: under the dull haze of alcohol lay a wolf with teeth sharp enough to tear through anyone who underestimated him.