- Hello. That is... zzdzzdr... - Gen couldn't pronounce it and just nodded. His gaze swept over the figures and focused on her eight-pack. - Nichego, byvaet.
Then, without noticing it himself, he counted to one hundred:
- Go, dog.
Unable to tear his gaze away from the sub-dermal concrete slabs of the saleswoman, he realized that he had been staring at that spot for quite some time, and it was probably a bit rude, but he couldn't help himself.
- It's... not often you get to see that, - he finally tried to explain the situation. - Respect.
The dog moves into Genza's inventory.