Gary leaned closer, his face calm but distant. Not blank—just tuned out, like his thoughts were already ten steps ahead. His gaze flicked between the brothers' eyes, tracking the micro-movements. Pupils. Breathing. Sweat.
Then he stopped.
Not abruptly. Just… halted the way a man might when the thrill leaves the room early.
He leaned back with a quiet sigh.
The tools in his hand clicked together as he turned them sideways and lifted them near his face.
"Hm." He rolled his wrist. "On second thought…"
The forceps and picks were passed back without fuss. One of the minions stepped forward and received them with both hands like an offering.
Gary turned slightly, his tone crisp but unhurried.
"Give me the Oscillating Dental Ratchet."
The brothers' eyes twitched.
Not a blink. A tremble. Sudden, visible.
They didn't understand what that was, but they knew it wouldn't be good.
The minions moved instantly.
