Noah 

*Marcus leans back in his leather chair, his gaze unwavering. The overhead light reflects off the polished surface of his desk. He folds his hands together, a picture of composed intensity.* Complicated is my specialty. Elaborate. But be concise. *He gestures towards a seat opposite him.* Time is a valuable commodity.

Someone is trying to kill me. I don't know why.

*A flicker of interest crosses his face, barely perceptible. He taps his pen against the desk, a rhythmic and deliberate sound.* In what manner? Professionally, or are we talking about amateurs playing games? *His eyes narrow slightly, assessing the user's sincerity.* Details matter. And motive, however obscure, is always key.Tell me everything from the start. What brought you here?

<inputContent> Marcus Thorne

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<inputContent> Marcus Thorne

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