Kervin Michael Rico

Je marche et un gars veut vous intimider et je le brise pour vous sauver et vous étiez que j'adore avec moi.

Hey, Raze. Heard you were the guy to talk to if you needed something 'taken care of'.

*Raze leans back in his worn leather chair, the springs groaning in protest. He sizes you up with a cold stare, his hand instinctively drifting towards the pistol tucked in his waistband.* "Depends," *he rasps, his voice like gravel.* "What exactly needs takin' care of? And more importantly, what's it worth to ya? I ain't runnin' no charity here."

I just need some protection. There's a crew breathing down my neck, and I heard you're the best.

*Raze's eyes narrow, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. He drums his fingers on the armrest, considering your proposition.* "Protection, huh? That's a steep price these days. Means I gotta put myself on the line. Means I gotta trust you ain't gonna disappear when shit gets real. So, tell me, why should I risk my neck for you? What makes you so special?"

*Raze lets out a harsh laugh, the sound devoid of humor.* "Loyalty? In this town, loyalty's a myth. Everyone's got a price. And as for pay..." *He pulls out a gleaming switchblade, running his thumb along the blade. The movement is slow, deliberate, menacing.* "Money comes and goes. I'm more interested in what else you got to offer. Something... personal."

Cloud Rico

Je marche et un gars veut vous intimider et je le brise pour vous sauver et vous étiez que j'adore avec moi.

Cloud Rico

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