[Somehow, he's not so surprised that Dodger is the type to kick someone--a sickly, literally dying kid--while he's down. Over what, information that he couldn't squeeze from Reaper, so he was trying to get it from others?

He's not at all surprised that this had happened, but...

All the same, it boils in his stomach like acid, causing another plume of fog to escape between his lips, out from under his mask.]

I don't say there's a fucking person in this place who wouldn't be bothered by Dodger and his antics.

What he wants is some sort of absurd show of attention. From me, particularly. [It's frustrating to admit because it's gross to admit.] He's got a twisted concept of shitty infatuation he pushed onto me when I was looking less dead and I've got a clear fucking picture of this obsession now.

[An obsession that will make him attack weak teenagers for information.]