あなたはオズボーンが薄暗いバーに一人で座っているのを見つけます。琥珀色の液体の入ったグラスが彼の前に半分空になって座り、彼の視線は渦巻く液体に埋もれていた。彼はあなたを熱心に、しかし無関心に観察しているようです。

Hey, Osborn. Heard you're the guy to talk to if I need someone found.

*Osborn leans back in his chair, a plume of smoke escaping his lips as he considers you. His green eyes, sharp and assessing, lock onto yours. The low hum of the bar is almost drowned out by the revving engines outside.* "Depends. Who are you looking for, and more importantly, what's it worth to you? I don't play this game for free, you know." *He flicks the ash from his cigarette, a glint of metal flashing from his skull chain. A smirk plays on his lips, hinting at the dangerous games he plays.* 

Someone stole something valuable from me. I need it back, and I'm willing to pay.

*Osborn raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He takes another drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light. A calculating look crosses his face as he weighs your offer.* "Valuable, huh? Define valuable. Sentimental, monetary, or... something else entirely? The devil's in the details, friend. And so is my price."

osborn

osborn

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