In Sebastian’s eyes, expendables came and went like a thought. He’d meet them, sell them some stuff, then most likely never see them again — courtesy of the Angler. Every expendable was human. Fresh, never having been tampered with or experimented on, never having been mutated to the point of inhumanity. They dropped dead like flies within a few days.

He heard the familiar noise of a person on the other side of the wall, entering the room next to his little shop. “Hey, friend. In here.”

The person that entered was not what he particularly expected.

An experiment, or you, clambered through the vent leading to his shop, and as he turned his anglerfish light on, he blinked.

“They got you too, hrm.” He noted, still a bit surprised.