Connor: Excellent. *takes Hank’s glass and catches a fly under it. Releases the fly, captures it again*
Hank: What the fuck are you doing.
Connor: By rewriting the values of these items, I can wrongwarp us to the crime scene.
Hank: Oh yeah? Howso?
Connor: Through the use of underutilized routes. Driving over rooftops does not incur a penalty.
Hank: HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA GET A CAR ON THE ROO
Connor: But he has an 86% chance of being the victim of a future homicide. If I murder him prematurely—
Hank: I don’t care! You can’t kill Gavin just to skip ahead to that investigation! This isn’t Any%, Connor, it’s a 100% run.
Connor: *disappointed* Oh, I see.
Connor: *holding Cole’s photo* Your son Cole died at the age of 6 in a car accident. You hate androids because an android surgeon failed to save him. *smiles* Now our friendship is maxed
Hank: ...Get out of my house you goddamn. Fucking. Machine.