"Shovel, watch him," Pitch says. The Drilbur steps forward, long claws ready to cut the man should he move.
Pitch picks up his knife and drinks his Lemonade, just in case this guy decided to get funny.
"So," he says, putting his newly acquired blade at the man's throat. "Who sent you? And who am I important enough to that they'd send a hitman into my room?"
As he does so, he waves at Thales.
"Take his Pokeballs."
The man is oddly comfortable with a knife at his throat. His voice consists mainly of sarcastic dismissal. "You think I know who sent me? What kind of business model would that be...I just get a picture and a location, that's all. You're just another target to me. A job and a paycheck. Or rather, that's what you were supposed to be."