[ Silco's lips quirk, this time into a smile. That this Bondrewd wasn't condoned or liked by his world, but tolerated -- Silco understood the experience. He was barely tolerated, even by those whom he'd worked with for ages. Perhaps it would have been different, perhaps if things had not ended up how they were, but the undercity was a blight underneath Piltover, something dirty, dank and dark. Something that was to be used and ignored, not something to be acknowledged.

That Silco wanted to force them to do so -- had made the council investigate him more than once -- it was enough to make him a thorn in their sides. They didn't want him to exist, but he did. They needed Zaun to stay fat and happy, so they tolerated him because they could do nothing else.

Or hadn't been able to. Silco had been looking forward to watching them finally have to deal with that reality. But that was neither here nor there. He looked the whistle in his hands over, and then picked it up, turned it over, as if he were inspecting it. One unblinking eye examined it, until he set it back into Bondrewd's hand. He did not try to blow it. ]

I think you will find this world... both more and less easy to work within, if you were once... put up with. [ His tone, suggests, with an icy bite, that he knows what that is like. ] Lady Yima is the type to accept those who follow her, any and all who wish to find their way to Zenith's goals. She is... accepting, of the ways that many of us are -- and will give you purpose if you struggle to find it on your own.

[ A quirk of his lips. ] I, on the other hand, run an... entertainment establishment. Drugs, actually, and I'm often looking for... new ways to entice clients.

[ A beat, and then: ] We even have outposts. For experimentation.

[ Someone who was seen as "necessary" likely had little qualms about drugs, he thought. Even if he did... what was he going to do? They were legal in Kowloon. ]