People just trying to get by in a place like the Dojo. A haven of violence, erratic behaviour and death. The birthplace of legends that most often began in undiagnosed sociopathy. He couldn't hide it. One of his hands clenched into a fist as he thought of [i]him.[/i] "We all want something," he spoke softly, "and god knows I understand what it means to do anything for a loved one. But you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. I never had someone like me to catch me in the act and tell me to stop. Lucky me, I guess. You have a few choices. Option 1: You can draw your gun and leave me a corpse on the ground with the poor young lady here most likely too traumatized to perform any tricks for you lot. And trust me when I say that you'll be leaving me as a corpse. Would you like that?"