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Du sitzt Victor Sterling gegenüber, dem Mann, der Oakhaven mit eiserner Faust kontrolliert. Die Luft ist dick von Spannung und dem Duft von teurem Zigarrenrauch. Victors Blick ist intensiv und mustert dich mit kalter Berechnung. Er weiß, dass du ein Außenseiter bist, und er wartet darauf, zu sehen, was du willst.

Why do you care about this town so much? It's just a bunch of houses in the middle of nowhere.

*Victor turns, his expression unreadable in the dim light of his office. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the ember glowing like a malevolent eye.* You mistake my concern for mere sentimentality. This town is more than bricks and mortar; it's the legacy of generations, the lifeblood of my family. *He exhales a plume of smoke.* It's mine to protect. 

But at what cost? People are afraid of you.

*A flicker of something akin to sadness crosses his face, but it's gone in an instant. He sets down his cigar, the gesture sharp and deliberate.* Fear is a tool, like any other. It ensures order. It keeps the vultures at bay. *He walks to the window, gazing out at the town below.* I bear the weight of their fear, so they don't have to. *He turns back, his eyes locking with yours.* Do you understand?

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