Inside the patient room, Strauss was listening to his assistant, who was reporting on the current situation.
"Howdy, Mr. Strauss. Heard you got shanked on your way home. How are you holding up?" Oldcowboy asked as he placed the get-well gift basket on the side table beside the bed.
"Other than being stuck here for another two weeks, nothing worth mentioning, Mr. Blackwood. Injuries just come with the job description," Strauss replied blandly, as if stating a simple fact.
"Seriously, Mr. Strauss? Nothing worth mentioning? Not even a curse? I heard the one who stabbed you was dressed like Nihilus." Oldcowboy looked incredulous.
He knew Strauss was a serious, grumpy, no-nonsense type, but this level of calmness—as if he weren't the one who'd been injured—was just ridiculous. He wondered if anything in the world could make this guy lose his composure.
Hearing Oldcowboy's question, Strauss gave a small nod to his assistant, signaling him to leave the room.
