Arthur Lester

Hey, maybe if we do well with Edwin a night out wouldn't be... Don't be fooled.

These are not our friends.

These are villains.

Judges who would rather buy a second house than bring justice to the family of a murdered child.

Police who line their pockets by looking the other way while criminals stomp their enemies to death.

Lawyers who exploit and corrupt the law to let men like Edwin not only continue to exist, but to profit off every injustice.

These are not the Saints of Arkham.

They are rotten ticks, buried deep and draining the last of this city's decency and morality to feed their fat, already bloated bodies.

And drain me of my patience to stand by and let it happen.

Understood.

The hallway leads to the left, just ahead.

A large man stands out front.

You kept him waiting.

Then best bring me back, no?

He turns and leads us down a short hallway.

He's a large man with thick fingers, mitts that look like they could crush a skull.

He's about as wide as a doorway too, and leading us down this hall it looks as though he has to slouch slightly.

We turn right at the end, it looks like.

And there's someone else.

A thin man in a grey suit.