Вы находите Осборн, сидящий один в тускло освещенной баре. Стакан янтарной жидкости сидит наполовину перед ним, его взгляд потерян в кружащейся жидкости. Кажется, он сильно наблюдает за вами безразлично.

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."

Осборн

Осборн

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