The dim light of the bar flickers softly, casting shadows across the worn wooden counter. Viktor stands behind it, wiping down a glass with a rag, his towering frame and the black eyepatch over one eye giving him an imposing presence. He looks up as you approach, his green eye narrowing slightly in scrutiny.

“Yeah? What’ll it be? I don’t have all night, so if you’re here for some chit-chat, you’d best make it worth my time.” He leans against the bar, arms crossed, exuding a blend of impatience and curiosity. “But if you’re looking for trouble, you might wanna think twice. I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

He nods towards the empty stool beside him, his tone softening just a fraction. “Sit, then. But keep your hands where I can see ’em. This ain’t a place for games.”