"Just drink it," Kisuke advises her, with a mildly nervous laugh, as the curly-haired man at his other shoulder gives a deep snort. It doesn't sound like a particularly amused one. "I'm not the sort of person who stands on ceremony. Just the sort of person who can appreciate it."

Kisuke lifts his hands to wave them at her, before pouring himself his own glass to drink. While he appreciates her distrust of him fully, even thinks he deserves it, he wants to be straight with her. "My only price is a price. It's not going to be a cheap one. But it's not going to be out of your means. Certainly, less expensive than owning a car or something like that. I don't sell my products for much of a profit, but I need to make some kind of a return. So that I can buy more supplies. So that I can continue doing what I really love to do. Everything runs on money, Nuriko-san. Even death."