[ Say I accept what you say is true, said the ghost, and Wolfwood leaned his head against the stone wall behind him and closed his eyes. It wasn't worth arguing about anymore. He'd thought about his own death plenty of times – the Eye was good at inspiring that kind of thing – and while he'd never expected a peaceful death, he'd have preferred one where he didn't have to relive Livio's death in his head over any over. ]

You win.

[ If he had a gun, he mused, he could demonstrate for the ghost that a head shot was still enough to put a member of the Eye in the ground. ...Even better, if he had a gun, he could find out whether ghosts were bulletproof, and that thought put a smile on his lips, if only for a moment. Could you shoot a ghost? The rock didn't do anything, so a bullet probably wouldn't either, but wouldn't it be worth the look on that dead fucker's face to get drawn on by his own self?

That would have been sonething to see. ]

I yield, all right? Livio's alive, and I'm gonna die in December. [ His voice was getting painfully raspy, emphasis on the painful, and he was pretty sure he should be sweating a lot more than he was. Without bothering to open his eyes – the asshole was invisible anyway, what did it matter? – Wolfwood raised a middle finger in the ghost's general direction, and tried not to think about water. ] Message delivered, now fuck off and let a man die in peace.