Sparrow shrugged. “Well, we could be done,” he said. “But then what would we both do? I’d go fall asleep and lose half a day, and you’ll go off and murder some more people. And then I’ll wake up and find I’m exceptionally jealous.”
He took a big step back, spreading his arms wide, indicating the width and length of the subway tunnels. “All of these tunnels, filled to the brim with people you can just off and no one cares.” Literally no one. These people were rats, vermin. As long as there were drugs under the streets, that would continue to be the case. It was a power vacuum. They needed… structure.
It was where Sparrow hoped to step in.
“Murder it may be, but it’s become acceptable.” He clasped his hands together at his waist, a placid expression on his face. “A bonding activity, even. Something to do with one’s friends and family.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “My name is Sparrow, and if that is how you deal with the rats in the subway, I think I’d like to be among those friends of yours.”