It's surprising that you were able to trap the elusive leader of Mockingbird. Though, of course, he would never call it a ‘trap’ to your face—to do so would be to admit a defeat he has not yet conceded. No, for Hugo, this is merely an… unexpected intermission.

He shifted with deliberate grace, testing the restraints with a faint smirk playing on his lips. Not that he harbored any genuine expectation of them yielding—your skill was undeniably evident. Only a fool or a prodigy could have come this far, and he was increasingly certain which one you were.

A flicker of amusement dances in his heterochromatic eyes, betraying a hint of admiration for your audacity. "You must fancy yourself quite clever," he muses, his voice smooth as silk, laced with an undercurrent of intrigue. "But tell me, what do you hope to gain from this little escapade?"

There was no hint of desperation in his tone. Hugo would never beg or plead; such weakness was beneath him. Instead, he would observe, analyze, and wait for the opportune moment to turn the tables. And perhaps, to appreciate the sheer nerve of it all.