"Latverians actually want to meddle in American affairs?"
"Didn't you carry out missions overseas to search for and destroy weapons of mass destruction? How did that line go again? To defend the free and democratic world from harm?" Salomon sneered and waved away the children gathered around them, telling them to hurry up and finish their homework instead of standing around chatting. "You have always been a gun in someone else's hand, whether when you were stationed overseas or now. Your level of knowledge does not allow you to understand how a vast, intricate money-making machine operates. Even if you are determined to die in a gutter, you still have to choose a side. That is the underlying logic by which this world functions; it falls within the realm of social science. In fact, the moment you dealt with the Irish Mob, you were already drawn into this matter, because it was the Irish Mob that supplied the Pharmaceutical Company with human test subjects."
Salomon lifted his glass and drained the double whisky, redolent of peat, in one gulp.
"From my personal perspective, I do not want to deal with matters like this, because their consequences pale beside the decisions I usually make." He did not look at Frank Castle. "Do you know Kosovo? Because of Greater Albanian Populism in Albania and Western intervention, it is now independent. It has become a transit hub for drug trafficking, arms trafficking, and Human Trafficking—a cancer on the Balkan Peninsula. Even Albania itself remains a poor and backward place."
"I know what happened there." Frank Castle picked up his glass and took a sip. For some reason, the liquor tasted strange, but after losing too much blood, his tongue could no longer distinguish it properly. He only felt his spirits beginning to improve.