Warsman sat in a booth at a coffeeshop. The surrounding skyscrapers pierced the morning sky and the people around the Russian gawked at his size and muscle definition, which easily bled through his shirt. This became slightly annoying, but Warsman kept sipping his coffee.
The Russian had been aware of his enemy for a long time now, but had said nothing of it. Finishing his cup, Warsman left his pay and tip on the table and went outside, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.