"I-"
Freak looks at Chrono after absorbing what he had said. Opening his mouth to answer the question his eyes glaze over. Something had changed. Silence. Nothing. It was as if a fuse had shorted in the CEO's head. Forward he looks a thousand yards beyond the man in front of him in a hypnotized trance his gaze pitiless as the sun. His pupils enlarge as his jaw hangs the deadened air thickening in the absence of the businessman's response. Things were different now. Someone had to suffer. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach.
"David Bowie is dead."
The words echo throughout the arena in a psychotic monotone. It didn't answer Chrono's question. In all likelihood Chrono's question didn't have an answer. 'Why' was never something to occurred to Freak. He was more concerned with 'how much' Holding still as a statue the businessman lets his seemingly non-sequitur announcement hang in the air. Things had indeed changed. Addressing Clepsydra, seemingly possessed by something other than himself, he speaks.
"I accept the match. I want it for the strap. I want loser leaves town."
Not waiting for an answer he slowly moves past the leader of the SSS leaving him and him alone with the information as the ghoulish man disappears behind the curtain with few of the usual theatrics and little of the expected bargaining. The cards were on the table. How they were dealt was all that remained.
