Erwin paces around the room with much vigour. In his hand is a thick file of paper, a contract of a thousand words that currently is meaningless to the man. It is supposed to be a simple small transaction with a new business in town, one who obviously doesn’t know where their place is in this massive food-chain of the underground world. He hates spilling unnecessary blood, especially over utter stupidity from the other party.
“Do they realize what they’re asking for?”
“Pretty sure these shitheads don’t even realize who they’re asking from.”
“We can’t hand over shipments unless we have a guarantee. Rescind our offer, Levi. I’d like to go over there and have a ‘chat’.” Erwin stops and rubs his face in tired frustration. “Dammit, Eren’s coming back soon, I don’t have time to deal with these shrimps.”