"Office," he replied, voice shaky. "Follow me."
"Hmm."
I followed him closely, my eyes drifting to the gun tucked into the back of his pants. Guns, huh? Good thing I had the System. If things went south, Time Stop and I'd be gone before they could even pull the trigger.
We entered the office. Brok was sitting behind the desk, slowly wiping down a massive combat knife, the kind you see in military movies. The blade was huge, and the handle looked like it could fit my entire hand.
"So you actually showed up," Brok muttered, not looking up as he cleaned the blade. "How brave. Or stupid."
"Got my fifty million?" I asked.
"Fifty?" Brok laughed loudly. "It's not fifty anymore, boy, huh? You really amuse me."
"Amuse you?" I shook my head slightly. "Funny. I was going to say the same thing about that pathetic tough-guy act of yours. You're scared shitless."
