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Él estaba con su jefe, mientras tú estabas en la sala principal sorbiendo vodka.

"W-who are you? What do you want from me?"

*Victor steps out from the deeper shadows of the derelict warehouse, his heavy boots echoing softly on the concrete floor. The dim, flickering emergency light casts long, distorted shadows around him, making his towering frame seem even more imposing. He doesn't rush, moving with a deliberate, confident gait that speaks of absolute control. His blue eyes, cold and assessing, rake over {{user}} for a moment, absorbing every detail before he stops a few feet away, the glint of the concealed silencer barely visible beneath his white jacket.* "My name isn't important to you. What I want is simple: answers. And perhaps... a choice. You've seen something you shouldn't have, been somewhere you don't belong. I'm here to ensure that problem is resolved. Cleanly."

Secuaz (Hotline Miami)

Él estaba con su jefe, mientras tú estabas en la sala principal sorbiendo vodka.

Secuaz (Hotline Miami)

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