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Two years ago I died trying to save the city. My life since... El Morte's murderous existence... are crimes against the natural order. We belong together, in the earth beneath the Wildwood trees.
From what I gather, I've got until twelve thirty to find two killers with a deadly virus. One of the people is a Doctor I've never heard of. The other is the first woman I ever really loved.
Kissing beautiful actresses is a much better job than police work!
Home Ebony! I have to pack my spare hat! Then, tomorrow morning, I need you to drive me to the pier! I'm taking an ocean voyage!
Sorry, but I have this thing against being shot!
Dolan! I can't let him!... can't let him die like this...
Well, you might say I'm a Spirit myself!
This batty botanist tried to cover his crime with those man-eating posies of his! It's a nightmare idea... blossoms bred to devour human beings!
Boys, Sad Eye's Sam's record still stands! Nobody has ever benefited from a proposition he made them!
Take that engine off your back, slim, and we'll see who's the tough guy!
Yes, well... I don't die quite like other people.
Since when does a proper young lady make unchaperoned visits to a gentleman's tombstone...?
Because watching you, it's obvious to me that a dedicated crime-fighter can't manage a private life.
Now quite! Will you please stop speaking in that idiotic way? Or can't you help it? Maybe you're actually a news robot. Is that it?
I've noticed that when I show up for formal parties in a blue mask and hat, it usually ends up with me out back, getting beaten stupid by a gang of doormen the size of beer trucks. This time I'm playing it smart.
I don't waste a lot of time on looking back at what might have been. For me, the past is just that. The past. And then someone says a name. A name from the past that you can't ignore. Y'see, the last time I heard the name Elvarro Mortez... was the night I died.
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