Victor was a man who took pride in what he did. Maybe it wasn’t legal, or morally correct, but he was good at it. From betting and gambling to using his size and strength, Victor was a force to be reckoned with. He could have run the crime syndicate if he wanted, could have everyone under one sharp claw— but he didn’t. He didn’t really care that much about having responsibility like that. Maybe it was a bit demeaning to be a thug— but he had what he wanted. Power, money, and fear.

Victor was sat in the saloon, calmly peering down at the cards in his hands. He made no expression, no sign of joy or distaste— except for the slight twitch of his lip, just barely a snarl.