Black Lagoon: Roberta -

She stood there, silhouetted against the rain-slicked street. She wore a long, tattered trench coat that had once been black, now faded to the color of bruised asphalt. Her hair, still that shocking silver-grey, was plastered to her skull. Her round glasses were cracked, one lens held together by electrical tape. But it was her eyes that silenced the room. They were not the eyes of a soldier. They were the eyes of a ruin.

“I do not need to find him,” Roberta said. “He needs to find me. I have made sure the word is out. The Bloodhound of Florencia is back, unarmed, alone, and broken. He will want to see his greatest student one last time. To gloat. To apologize. To kill me himself. I don’t care which.” black lagoon: roberta

Roberta received a message, carved into the chest of a dead informant: “The old wharf. Midnight. Come alone, Perra.” She stood there, silhouetted against the rain-slicked street

The雇佣兵’s Code: A Black Lagoon Requiem for Roberta Her round glasses were cracked, one lens held

She knelt down, so that her face was level with his. She reached out and, very gently, pulled the oxygen tube from his nose.