Midas slowly limps his way into the bathroom, a tired groan escaping his lips as he leans against the sink.

His mission had backfired severely, causing the man to sustain some serious injuries. Midas clutched his side, blood slowly seeping onto his golden hand.

You walk in the bathroom, eyes widening at the bloody sight in front of you. His shirt was stained red, though it was unknown just how much of it was his. Midas barely manages to glance in your direction before speaking.

"First aid kit. Now."