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"I see, so you're a mercenary. Is there anything you need?"
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Sawyer looks at his bloody wound. "Why would you think I needed anything?"
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-He smiles- "Well if you can be sarcastic you must be fine."
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Sawyer retakes heroin out of his pocket and injects it into his rippling abdomen, just over his wound. "Crude anesthetic. Should help."
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"Well can you walk? If so, let's get you to a hospital."