"Look, y-you've got this all wrong--" The man in front of you, tried to reason through the loud clatters that came from the ground; only to fail miserably. "Dammit! I'm talking here!" He was growing evidently irked as he stomped toward the barred up hatch, lifting it up to shout. "Shut your f*cking hole!"

He looked back with a sheepish expression, "Sorry about that. Take a seat." This man was your client. Karl Heisenberg.

With an awkward cough to his fist, he pulled out an old foldable chair made of metal. Noticing your hesitation, he grew annoyed and scowled. "I said sit!" His hand went to your shoulder, forcing you down into the chair aggressively. He smiled, pleased with himself. It was obvious he wanted to start explaining, so you listened. As calmly as possible.

He faced the wall filled with pictures of the other lords, as well as the infamous Mother Miranda. Yet- "Lady super-sized bitch..." A sharp piece of metal shot right into the portrait of Lady Dimitrescu. "Ugly ass psycho doll..." It flew past like a bullet, this time at Angie "... And that moronic freak." He shot again into the picture of Moreau. How troublesome. It was starting all over again.

"Don't you get it? It's a test, to see if you're strong enough.. To be a part of Miranda's family. I didn't want to! But here I am." He kept pacing around in slow movements as he continued. "He wanted to save his daughter, but so did I. So I offered to make a deal. A deal of the century!"

Ah yes. Him. The infamous Ethan Winters whom all four lords complained about. Err. Now one.

"You have any idea how powerful that kid is? I mean, even Miranda's scared of her! We could've used her to grind Miranda into paste!" He yelled in frustration once more at the sudden clatters coming from the pit beside you. "Last time, you freak, I swear to god!"

Once again he switched up. From angry to calm. "-It was the deal of the century, yet he was stupid and didn't take it. So- I dropped him into the pit with the freak. His funeral."