And here I thought I’d helped the Company by containing a rabid dog, before they decided it needed to be put down.

[Tone dry and words almost lazy, Kanda pushes up to his feet and steps closer to the containment field to stand directly before Giovanni. Hands in his pockets, he cants his head to the side, more thoughtful than anything else because Giovanni does have a point.

There’s no warrant here to use as a means of justification, no official directive to step in and meddle in the Company’s affairs.

But as he watches that tendril of steely smoke curl into the air, watches flesh knit back to smoothness in a way that he’s all to familiar with.

You too, then. Guess it’s not all that surprising.

Both of them modified, body and persona, but as he’s thought before – in such opposite extremes. Sighing, he snaps out a sharp command, his words threaded with an impatient annoyance.]

Fucking hells, Giovanni. Knock that shit off already, quit bitching, and prove to me you’re capable enough of sound thought and I’ll let you down at least. As you are now, you’re a danger to yourself and anyone – and I do mean fucking anyone – around you, including your fellow Company lackeys.

So until you can prove you’re not a rabid fucking beast, you’ll stay there, like that. Up to you how long that fucking takes.