"Maybe," Phil let slip, still focused on the bag as he kept at it. "Maybe it owes me more."

Five fucking years, two months, three days and a night of his life to be exact, that's how much the nameless entity owed the former security guard. Phillip almost never cursed out loud but his mind was channeling very frustration he had into areas he knew would cause pain. Good thing about those medical simulation bots, they taught this sort of things, though for less violent purposes.

Gray only stopped when he saw tiny blotches of red start to appear on the cloth. It was only then that he realized he'd scrapped his knuckles to bare vibrant red. He took a deep breath then switched to a smile,

"You want in, sir?"

He didn't know they had a death in common.