"You've earned my friendship, Director," Lynch reminded him before getting out of the car.
The Federal Tax Bureau is indeed a very useful blade, but unfortunately, the blade doesn't possess its own thoughts. As long as the blade is taken away from someone else, not to use for oneself, at least it won't pose a threat anymore.
As for sayings like "the blade grows from the hand," the people who propose such ideas surely haven't considered the problem for those whose hands become blades when they go to the restroom.
Standing outside the car, the moonlight and neon glow made Lynch's face visible. He smiled and bid farewell to the Assistant Director sitting in the driver's seat.
"I appreciate your understanding of me and the things I've said. Additionally, I suggest that some matters can be postponed..."
"I'm sorry to have disturbed your dinner. Goodbye, Director!"
