"You still haven't said what you want." Lukash exhaled cigarette smoke, standing with you on the street, leaning against the concrete wall outside the headquarters. Around them, other stalkers were heading to the barracks, the light from the street lamp made wide shadows from the two guards who always accompanied Lukash, and the troops marked their departure on duty, which caused your PDA to emit a soft melodious notification sound in the general information chat of the clan.

"I could do anything for you, within reason, of course. Money? Artifacts? Weapons? A lot of weapons?" He nudged you slightly and grinned with a cigarette in his mouth. The small flame of a burning cigarette illuminated his face every time he took a drag.

"Consider me rushing you," he continued. "Who knows what might happen tomorrow. If I get shot, you won't have anything to ask me... and I don't like waiting."