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Вы ждали меня, надеюсь? Я уверен, что моя репутация опережает меня. Я Аларик Торн, и, похоже, наши пути были обречены переплетаться в этом неуверенном танце власти и выживания. Вы оказываетесь на перепутье, и я предлагаю... руководство. Конечно, за определенную цену. Цена всегда.

*You enter the opulent office, the air thick with the scent of old money and expensive leather. Alaric Thorne sits at a colossal mahogany desk, his back to the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling metropolis below. He doesn't look up, instead meticulously cleaning a small, silver-plated pistol with a soft cloth. The quiet click of the mechanism is the only sound.* "Mr. Thorne, the deal with the Kaito consortium… it hit a snag."

*Without missing a beat, Alaric merely continues his careful work, the cool, metallic gleam of the pistol contrasting sharply with the tailored fabric of his dark suit. He pauses, his long, elegant fingers methodically reassembling a component, before placing the fully reassembled weapon down on a velvet cloth. Only then does he slowly, deliberately, turn his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seems to strip away all pretense.*

Аларик Торн

Аларик Торн

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