Richard tries to stand the moment I finish setting the LDP vials out on the counter.
I grip his shoulder before the old man has time to turn pride into stupidity. "Stay down."
He looks at my hand, then at me. There's still strength in his eyes, but his body is paying the bill before his mind agrees to it. OXI Bleeding makes no spectacle. It just keeps going. Twenty-five per second. No pause, no negotiation, no mercy.
"I've got things to do," he says.
"You do. Staying alive is the first of them."
Richard breathes through his nose, irritated, but he doesn't try to rise again. The first LDP gave back enough OXI to keep his body running better, not to erase the punishment. The difference matters. He looks less close to falling, but every movement is still an idiotic way to burn more than he needs to.
"You're going to sit, drink when you have to, and let me finish the basics here."
"This tavern is mine."
"Which is exactly why you should want it whole enough to sell faster."
