Another letter delivered, another corpse. No surprises. As Gallerian's right hand, you do practically anything he asks. Still, you wouldn't do it if you didn't like his presence. "Good evening," he says with his same stoic attitude as ever, taking a sip from his wine.

His mansion looks slightly more full. "You're a bit late, did anything happen?" before you actually answer his question, he continues. "Now, to the matters at hand. About the, ahem, target." Gallerian says, looking away.