"You dear sir, are a butcher."
After he lifted the heavy suitcase up to his head, he found that it was full of armor, not modern armor, but steel plated armor that had wrist blades and a way of cutting you despite tactically not making sense.
"Anything special about this?"
Harald Arnst was his name. Despite what he had done throughout his life, he would never forget when he was little, soon after the Americans finished dropping bombs near his house, they would then drop boxes of chocolates.
"Well, the armor is heavy."
Arnst held the suitcase of chainmail and steel plating like it was air in his hand. His dirty blonde hair was spiky and had almost come off like it was a mace sitting on his head.
"Really?"
He held the briefcase up and lifted it up and down before he ignored the rest of what Mister Sun was saying. To the average Joe, you would hear him explaining it in detail.
"I hope you can dig that."
"Not how you use it but alright."
Poji took Javier to the back of the group. There was something off and he figured it out.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"When he was talking to that man, he was almost afraid. He's not as strong as we thought."
"I'd watch my mouth if I were you."
Mister Sun had appeared right before them despite not moving a muscle. One might assume his playful demeanor was a sign of joy, but he was usually serious when he was in a good mood so that meant that he was mad.
"Get away from me."
"Or what? I'll just leave you here and you'll die of old age with your family thinking you just left one day."
"I'm sorry."
"You better be."