Devero wraps his arms around himself and watches Koumyou with half lidded eyes as the other man speaks. "Executed...?" he murmurs, more than a little horrified by that. But it's not the point of the story that Koumyou's telling him, so he lets it be.

He does pull his arm around to look at the metallic scorpion inked there, the metallic pigment in his skin glimmering in the gentle light of the spa car. He looks at it like he hasn't seen it before, fingers tracing the outreaching pincers for a moment.

"Being in the Guard... it's important. The Guard protects and serves all the citizens of the World Government, and we-- they--" He pauses, then repeats a sentiment often tossed around in the barracks. "They do the hard stuff, the dirty stuff that other branches of Gov won't do. Especially in the Scorpions.

"Most Guardians don't ever have to fight, you know. They do search and rescue work, or accompany humanitarian aid missions. Disaster response. They're first responders and police, not soldiers. Most of the candidates for the combat program wash out before they even get approved for the upgraded Implants."

He draws his knee up and leans against his leg, running one hand through his damp hair. "It was an honor to be selected. For them to look at me and say 'we can rely on you when shit's at its worst'. It was something to be damn proud of. And then-- and then--"

He closes his eyes. "It all fell out from under me. So-- so you're right; I haven't been able to climb back out of that fucking sinkhole since."