Mr. Hog got thoroughly drunk in the bar's main hall, which saved him from being found in a private booth with a gaping hole through his chest.
"He might not make it back alive from the Fisherman's Club."
Song Lan worried about the future of his recently-made good friend.
After all, the methods of those from other races differed from his; they were vicious enough to feed innocent bystanders to plants in the sewers. He'd bet that even after working at Libra, the symbol of the United Government's judicial power, for so long, Hog had certainly never encountered such deranged criminals.
"If he can survive this, let's consider those things then."
"Rose said she'd keep an eye on that place. Although she's never been inside, she knows how the club calls its gatherings."
