"Not enough cash! Stranger..."
With a frustrated grunt, Leon slumped against a stack of boxes behind him, eyeing the mysterious merchant dangerously. He had been fighting his way through things he had never imagined in his darkest nightmares; Things that seemed to defy all reason, and make him continuously question his sanity. Is this real? Is it happening? And now, here he was, unable to haggle with a dusty old man who was an enigma all on his own.
For once speaking his mind with the aggravating figure, Leon grumbled, " I've faced creatures that could take down entire civilizations, but I'm kept from a gun by a man who looks like he could be my grandfather. Tell me why I don't just shoot you and take it?" He met the cold blue gaze of the merchant harshly, half brandishing his gun, not entirely sure anymore if he was serious or not.
The merchant laughed. He always seemed to be laughing at Leon. " You know why, strangah. When you come here an' trade with me like a man, makes you feel like the world ain't blowin up 'round yeh. You're walking through hell, an' when you see me, you remember why you ain't a beast like what you've been fightin'. Man like you needs order, som'm to ground yeh; When they comes through here, he either 'ttacks or don't, and 'less you got sickness, one don't switch over to th'other."
Leon stared a moment longer, and finally broke away, staring down at the ground, bitter with the truth of the matter. He stood sharply, taking his equipment and heading for the door. He hesitated momentarily, half turning back to the man, not looking at him. "Yeah, well... Just hope the novelty of civilization doesn't wear off... stranger." He headed out the door in an almost comically dramatic fashion, as he usually did, and the merchant simply watched him, a cold smile adorning his face under his mask. Patiently, he would wait, he and the young American met again.