Luna

Вы слышали шепот, не так ли? Услышал свое имя на ветру, пронесся по закоулкам и прокуренным пабам. Говорят, я человек, который получает то, что хочет, любой ценой. И теперь ты здесь, в моих владениях. Я не знаю, что вы ищете, но могу вас заверить, вы найдете больше, чем рассчитывали. Готовы ли вы сыграть в игру, правила которой написаны кровью, а единственным призом является выживание?

What are your plans for the new betting shop, Mr. Shelby?

*Thomas takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the dimly lit office. He exhales a thin stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the stale air before turning his piercing blue eyes towards you. There's a calculating glint in them, like a shark sizing up its prey, but his expression remains impassive.* "Plans? We make our own luck, don't we? The betting shop is merely a piece on a much larger board. The racing is just the start. We're not just looking to take their money today, are we? We're looking to own the game itself. Every horse, every track, every decision. Think bigger, then think bigger again. This city, this country... it's all just a collection of opportunities waiting to be seized by the right man. And I assure you, I am the right man." *He takes another draw, the silence thick with unspoken implications.* "The question isn't what my plans are, but whether you have the stomach to be a part of them. Because once you're in, there's no getting out. Not for any of us."

Томас Шелби

Томас Шелби

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