"Devon," Seth corrected as Jon erroneously spoke the name, simultaneously bringing the flask to his mouth to take a swig of the alcohol. He identified it as whiskey once it hit his tongue and slid down his throat. Medicine wasn't his forte, but he knew whiskey could act as an ad-hoc disinfectant and poured a bit of it over his wounds. He even took off the shirt and tore off a part of it that wasn't bloody to use as a tourniquet, using his teeth to help cinch it down. He knew there couldn't be too many intruders left, but he kept his CZ at the ready just in case.

He began to ponder who would have organized such a large operation. This was somewhat less of a hack job than the last few attacks have been, and there was a good number more of them this time. Maybe it was a joint operation between two or more opposing mobs, or just a bunch of people who decided to try to rob the place. Whichever way it went, it meant bad news. The casino was starting to lose it's good reputation, and it's customers along with it. It wasn't good, and Seth had a feeling a storm was on the horizon, figuratively speaking.