"I have no secrets," Silco lies airily, as at ease leaning against the damp rock of the sea cave as he would be in his own parlour or the old chair in his little office.

"No, it seems you're simply not of Zaun — surprising, I would have pegged that accent as one of the upper lanes. Piltover, then?" Since everybody in the undercity knew whose name to whisper in fear and thanks. Those who swim alongside the sea creatures respect them, even if Piltover was oblivious to what lurked in the depths.