"You're right," Dejir said softly, tapping the table. The attendants by his side placed a pre-prepared box on the table and opened it towards the prosecutor, revealing neatly stacked gold bars dazzling under the illumination of a large crystal chandelier, blinding those who looked upon them.
"A hero is but a tool before power, and power, in turn, is a commodity before money, right?"
"Power is not meant to be taken lightly."
His fingers ran over the surface of the gold bars; the smooth movements long devoid of the trembling that had accompanied his first bribe.
"Yes, yes. People like us, without backing or capital, how dare we be capricious... We can't afford to misuse our power or act recklessly. We can't dare to, but scheming for personal gain... That's not too bad, is it?"
Dejir's smile was impeccable, a standard business smile that, notwithstanding its formulaic nature, retained a touch of warmth, completely concealing its encouragement of crime.
