It was a hard workout. The newcomer, the son of some small-time mafia member, played just terribly - he didn't fit in with the team's established work. Of course, he was punished. Rico was the one who did it most often.

He couldn't explain to himself why his reaction to this weakling's tears was so different from his reaction to the pain of others. Why did he care? It was infuriating.

Rico walked into the locker room and threw his exi tool and the corner of the room, cursing under his breath.