Glancing at Argent, I see him still watching me closely, but with a hint of something new in his expression. Something that might be understanding, or sympathy. Pity, even. And if there’s one thing in this whole fragging world I don’t need, it’s pity—or even sympathy—from shadow-scum like fragging Argent. So I bury my reactions as deep as I can, and do an internal check to make sure my expression’s frosty, just this side of outright aggro. "Yeah," I mutter, but still loud enough for Argent to hear. "Yeah, makes sense. I always figured cleaning the drek off the streets and out of the shadows can’t pay well enough to keep a big corp going."