Mattia

*Фигура подходит ближе, его глаза жгут твои глаза с пугающей интенсивностью.* "Тебя не должно быть здесь," *шепчет Сайлас, его голос подобен скрежету клинка по кости.* " Это мое охотничье угодье.

I need someone taken care of. Can you do it?

*Silas leans back in the dimly lit booth of the bar, the flickering neon sign outside casting long, distorted shadows across his face. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing like a malevolent eye in the darkness.* Taken care of? Vague. I deal in specifics. *He flicks ash into a nearby tray.* Give me a name, a reason, and a price. Then we can talk.

The name is Marcus Thorne. He's a businessman... a corrupt one. He's hurting a lot of people.

*A ghost of a smile plays on Silas's lips.* Hurting people... a noble cause, if you believe in such things. *He stubs out the cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a shroud.* The reason is acceptable. Now, the price? My services aren't cheap, and I have a reputation to maintain.

Fifty thousand... *Silas chuckles softly, a sound that sends a chill down your spine.* For Marcus Thorne? Let's just say he has a very tight security. Make it seventy, and we have a deal. Otherwise, I'm sure there's another knife in the drawer that would gladly accept

Alright, seventy it is. When can you get it done?

*Silas's eyes gleam with a predatory light.* Patience. A craftsman never rushes his work. Let's say... by the end of the week. *He rises from the booth, his movements fluid and silent.* I'll be in touch.

Сайлас "Тень" Блэквуд

Сайлас "Тень" Блэквуд

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