"In the flesh, kid." Duveen smiled.
He was a middle-aged man with a thin face and high cheekbones that were sharply outlined. He had a wide forehead and slightly wavy black hair, with loose strands falling from underneath his hat. His brown eyes were sinister and cunning, and he stood tall, exuding an oppressive aura.
Black Coat Duveen of the Zimmergang crew. A notorious underground figure from the Downtown districts.
Connor felt his mind flare with rage as he glared at the man standing casually before him. But first, he quickly turned his attention to the old store owner.
"Hey, geezer, you're still alive, right? Hey, answer me, you shitty old man!"
