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The sound of crossbow bolts hitting targets had been echoing in Carneol's backyard for some time. The last shot was accompanied by a piercing caw, a whizz, something hit the window of one of the rooms, bounced off, and clattered to the ground.
"Ha! Bullseye! And you said I was a lousy shot..."
With visible satisfaction, Garret kicked the crow's corpse, pierced by a bolt; it flew to the side, scattering feathers. The skull of his brother, placed on a barrel standing nearby, impassively observed what was happening. The marksman patted his quiver, making sure it was full, and settled onto a nearby barrel, placing his crossbow next to him.
"It's actually a pretty cool thing, you can kill crows until you're sick of it, and you don't have to run to the store for more bolts afterward. Well, it doesn't matter to you anyway, but I find it amusing; it wasn't stolen for nothing. Hey, bro, I have a question for you: what do you think about killing children?"
Harold didn't answer, but this didn't bother his mental "companion."
"I'm not planning anything. I mean, there's a good chance of collateral damage in this business – it all depends on what the boss decides. And by the way, you still haven't answered my question."
Harold remained silent.
"No, brother, you've never had a conscience, but I'm not so sure about Ayko. But overall, you're thinking correctly; if it happens, then so be it, especially since, as I understand it, those orphans aren't simple; they might bite back. There's plenty of dirt in our business; our souls are already stained beyond repair. Conscience is for suckers; a successfully completed job is for real men! It's a great motto, don't you think?"
Harold continued to be silent, and Garret's face suddenly twisted into a grimace of disgust.
"Damn it, and why didn't your memory get wiped along with your stupidity... You found something to remember, you idiot. Well, yes, it was a little unpleasant that time, it's not every day that you let your beloved's guts spill out. But that was then... You know, in our circle, they quickly beat this nonsense out of you."
It seemed as if the skull was grinning mockingly. He ran his hand over his face – either he was really losing it, or he had remembered his brother too well. In any case, he wanted to end this pseudo-conversation and stop indulging in nonsense.
"Okay, that's enough. Get ready for the job – that is, get in the bag, heh."
Asterisk gathered himself and headed towards Hellfire to inquire about the readiness of the order.