One Thousand Club
"Ah, I see," Pascal responded upon hearing about Emelia's second fight. Earlier in his career with the Tigers he would have been surprised and even chastised his fellow gang member, but at this point what he saw as a foolish and dangerous choice was something that he had come to expect form his colleagues. He was even unfazed when the woman mentioned potentially dying, just simply giving a nod in response.
"Bracers, hmm?" he repeated pensively. "Yes, I'll see what I can do. I'll probably need more information from you: your arm measurements as well as any information you can let me know about your opponent's jinx." With retractable bracers he needed precision, else, worst case scenario was the metal cutting straight through Emelia's arm during its extension.
The blond was so focused on the logistics of his new invention that he didn't even notice the wind blowing his hair across his gaze or the chill it brought. It took him a moment to even realize that Emelia had once again spoken, and he turned to the woman with a "hmm?" as he processed the words that had been said.
"Oh." So the question he had expected had finally come out. He was quite for another few moments as he formulated a response. "Chikage wanted us to investigate," he responded, "and I ended up running into him. So I figured I'd talk to him and see if I can get any information. He's... just as much in the dark as we are, but wants all of it to end..." He paused for a moment before adding on, "not just the deaths but... the fighting in general."
After another moment of silence the man suddenly said, "why are we doing this? Why do we do any of this? What's the point in the end? I'm assuming you want the bracers for a rematch with the Jack. What will that do for you? What will you get if you win?" He was silent yet again before adding on, "sorry, I guess it's none of my business. I'll call for you for information about the bracers later. Is there anything else you need?"