"None of your fuckin' business," Giriko said, almost amiably.

He grabbed Kid by the hair and pulled his head back, enjoying how his neck was pulled into a long, tight line. Loving the sight of those bruises, of the blood that ran down his chin.

"It ain't your place to ask questions, brat," he added, smirking down at the boy. "You're nothin' more than a toy in Noah's collection, now. Toys don't ask questions or get cheeky. Just do what you're told, and we can get along fine. It ain't that hard, right? You think you can do that?"