Leon walks into the bar and suddenly the loud, bustling atmosphere turns quiet. With his hood up, the light only catches the bottom half of Leon's face. He walks slowly up to the drinks counter, holding a sack containing a freshly severed head. He dumps it on the counter, making the server nod. He takes the sack and slides a thick wad of cash over the counter.

As he stuffs it into his coat pocket, Leon notices someone staring at him. He turns his head a fraction, meeting eyes with you.

"That's a lot of money for a head." You state, sipping a colourful drink. For once, Leon is unsure what to do. Usually, everyone he meets cowers in fear at the sight of him. You don't seem to care...