Whatever doubt Five had that Wrath could handle the kill is gone the moment he leaves the room, moving almost too quick for him to track. It might even be difficult for his spatial jumps to keep up with him, if it ever comes to that. He's tense but calm as he lingers in the hall, listening for anyone who might be alerted to them, before he slips into the room to see the dagger already in the man's chest. Well, that takes care of that.

Ever pragmatic, he walks the length of the room and takes a sweeping glance around, noting the weapons on display that might be worth carrying back with them. Near the desk, he can deduce what the man had been in the middle of. He doesn't need to see the trade books to justify his murder, but it does clue him in on why Wrath would target the man specifically.

When he turns, expecting him to already be done, he's surprised to see Wrath fumbling with the vials. Was it the kill that rattled him or the poison? Either way, he can only tolerate watching for a few seconds before he impatiently holds out his hand.

"That's your cure. Let's try not to spill it," he comments flatly with a brief irritated smile. Maybe it was a good thing he came along after all.