Military or not, there's a certain sort of recognizable martial quality in Jaeger's experience. Structure, discipline, the ability to handle oneself under questionable circumstances.

Not always accurate, but often enough, and it's an aura the big man has deliberately cultivated in his time. At least in part because it was expected of him.

"Well, it's her picture in the silver frame, and her doing a great deal of the speaking. It would be interesting to see what the actual hierarchy is, if there is one," he muses. It's not exactly clear, though he kind of expects there might be a difference between the magistrate that left him a buck knife and the one who left him cozy pajamas.

Mixed messages, there.

He regards Leon gravely. "I've heard that the city consumes the energy of our sins, that's why we're here. I've also heard about the heart being here, and that some people think the city is a living thing."

He drains the last sip from his glass, then toys with the flute with big, scarred hands.

"I've encountered things like that on a smaller scale, but I'm reserving judgment until I know more. I know the shadow creatures...the demons? Are dangerous, too. I killed one in an alley a couple of nights ago, and it didn't go down easily."

He coughs a small laugh. "I suppose I'm too used to things getting messy sooner rather than later, and my previous job was in, ah, situation management of a sort."

Security if you're being polite. Hitman if you aren't.