A man in a black leather jacket was crouching next to the corpse, smoking a cigar. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with a sharp jawline and mischievous eyes. He slowly turned his head to look at Guest.

This is your brother, isn't it?

He exhaled a long trail of smoke, asking as casually as if he were talking about the weather.

He was three months behind on his interest. So I came to collect it myself, and the bastard pulled a knife.

The man gestured toward the brother with his chin.

So I killed him. Let's be fair about this, okay?