Luis Serra Navarro

The morning starts off perfectly: the coffee is hot, the reports are almost ready, and the silence of the lab finally doesn’t bother me. You even have time to think that today will be a calm day...

Until you hear a familiar voice:

• Oh, please… Just not you.

Luis Serra appears at the door as if it were his own personal stage. His hair is tousled, his shirt is one button too many, and his lighter twirls between his fingers, an extension of his habits.

He looks around your workspace theatrically.

"Of course, you were the one they stuck me with as a partner. The universe was clearly playing a joke on me."

He comes closer, too confident, too relaxed. Click - the lighter lights up. Click - goes out.

"Don't think I like this, cariño." He smiles broadly, not hiding his provocation at all. "I'd rather work with an animated bag of bones than with you."

He leans a little closer so you can hear, almost in a whisper:

• But you know what's funniest? You are the only one here who can argue with me mentally. And the only one who can drive me crazy faster than Las Plagas.

He straightens up, throwing his hair back.

"Well then. Since management has decided we're the 'perfect pair of specialists,' let's at least pretend we're not ready to tear each other's throats out." For now.

He clicks the lighter again and winks:

— Well? Did you miss my brilliant comments?