Part 115: Interview Two - Dog

[BGM: Dog Days]


… Well, this is... unexpected.

Alright, I'll bite. What's going on?

...Questions? I'm the one supposed to be answering questions?

Feel like I got a couple questions myself – why I'm not dead being the principle one. But you know, whatever. Screw it. Ask away.

Why'd you even ever become friends with Oliver?



I dunno. On the force, there weren't a lotta good options. He seemed decent enough. Could play cards, went drinking with me. Funny enough, nice enough, good with a conversation.

If I had some dramatic story about our bond, about how he saved my life in the line of duty, well, maybe it would've made my actions more understandable.

But nah, we really just hung out because we worked together. Few years of that, you start calling yourselves friends.

Do you regret not doing anything about all this for so long?



Duh. If you have to ask someone if they regret something, the answer's usually yes. Doubly so if the person you're asking is dead – triply so if the person you're asking was murdered.

And if they were murdered for something relating to said mistake? Then 100 times yes, they regret it.

If you want to know why I didn't do anything for so long, I guess I'd chalk it up to a sense of helplessness. By the time I really got the full picture of everything, I was a washed up drunk who ran a bar.

Not exactly the type to have a lot of influence in any real way. Even knowing the situation, it's not like I knew how to stop it.

I didn't know what to do, and I knew that whatever I should do, I probably couldn't. I'd have to go against my friend Oliver – not that I was overly loyal to him. But, more importantly... unnecessary meddling could easily get me killed.

...Well, I ended up getting killed regardless, so...

Anyways, it wasn't the right approach. I knew that. But if Oliver had the sin of envy, mine was the sin of sloth. Wasn't til Brian, with his sin of wrath, made a move that I decided to get off my ass and do something.

Did anything specific make you quit the police?



Nope.

I mean, I could tell you the story of the case that broke the camel's back. It was an awfully sordid affair, involved a money-laundering scheme and this girl with white hair.

To be honest, some parts of that case still confuse me.

But to emphasize that one would be missing the point entirely. The thing that got me, the thing that always gets people, is never one incident. It's the constant incidents, piling up one after another, until it's too much to take.

It wasn't some moral stance. It wasn't a practical measure. I was just... tired. And tending bar was easier.

Are you upset at how everything played out?



Where exactly do you get off asking a dead person something like that?

Yeah, seeing as my head's currently filled with lead, I'm not thrilled.

I mean, I make jokes and all, but end of the day I'd still prefer to be alive. Eh, but that's life I suppose.

If my death, if my interference helped shake things up, even somewhat...

Well then, I guess it's fine.

Is there anything you never got a chance to say?



I mean, there's plenty of things I never got to say. But nothing profound or anything like that.

If anything, I'd apologize to Brian maybe? Tell off Oliver... say a couple goodbyes... Nothing out of the ordinary.

Any advice?



You're asking me for advice? Wow. I don't even have something funny lined up for that.

All I can say is to learn a little something from me. I did nothing for a long time, and things got bad. Then I did something, and I died. Both those outcomes kinda suck.

But which one's cooler? ...Yeah, thinking about it more, I'm satisfied with how I went out. I made an impact.

You should try to as well.

No more questions.

Later.