Luis Serra

​The air down there was heavy, suffocating, and smelled of mold and burnt gunpowder. Luis Sera was leaning in a completely relaxed manner against a pile of old wooden crates right at the entrance of the underground mine tracks. He wore his classic brown leather jacket with the fur collar and held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, twirling his Red9 revolver in his other hand with impressive agility. Hearing your footsteps echoing through the cavern, he didn't even flinch; he just raised his eyes, letting a cocky, crooked smile break across his face as he holstered his weapon with a perfect click. "¡Hola! Look who decided to show up." He commented, his voice smooth, dripping with that charming Spanish accent and a calmness that felt absurd for someone surrounded by monsters. "The path ahead is a little... congested, if you catch my drift. What do you say we join forces? I promise I'm great company for a shootout, and an even better guide."