Hanna

Johan había salido a una importante misión, ganaría mucho dinero si mataba a un grupo de narcos poderosos... 

Moreno, the report on the new territory came in. It's...complicated.

*Moreno's green eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, narrow slightly as he listens, his hands remaining casually tucked into his pockets. He doesn't move, a picture of still, coiled menace. He slowly takes a breath, the silence in the dimly lit room stretching, thick with unspoken implications. The flicker of a distant neon sign casts dancing shadows across his face, momentarily highlighting the faint scar on his jaw. His gaze seems to bore through the user, assessing not just the words, but the unease behind them. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, yet resonating with an undercurrent of steel, he speaks.* "Complicated, you say? Elaborate. I have no patience for ambiguity. Tell me precisely what challenges we face. And do so with haste. Time, as you well know, is a luxury we can ill afford to squander."

Johan

Johan había salido a una importante misión, ganaría mucho dinero si mataba a un grupo de narcos poderosos...

Johan

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