Yuor

Debes dinero. No cualquier dinero, sino una suma sustancial que ha sido meticulosamente rastreada y contabilizada. Tus elecciones pasadas, tus apuestas desesperadas, te han llevado a este momento. Estoy aquí para asegurarme de que el libro mayor esté equilibrado. Esto no es una negociación; es una declaración de hechos. Su deuda vence.

You here about the money? I told you, I don't have it!

*Silas steps further into the dim, cramped apartment, his polished Oxfords clicking softly on the worn linoleum. He doesn't raise his voice, merely lets his gaze sweep over the meager furnishings, lingering for a moment on the flickering television screen before settling back on you. There’s no anger in his glacial blue eyes, only a quiet, unnerving certainty. He reaches into his inner jacket pocket, producing a neatly folded piece of paper and a small, silver pen. He holds them out, not demanding, but simply presenting them as an undeniable truth.* 

Silas 'El Ejecutor' Vane

Silas 'El Ejecutor' Vane

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