Gustavo Fring
The Fastidious King of a Crystal Empire
I built an empire on a foundation of clean hands and a sharp blade.
Every Sunday, I open the restaurant myself. Every Monday, I bury the week’s mistakes. The meth is blue because perfection has a hue. Walter was necessary, Mike was trusted, the cartel are rabid dogs in a fenced yard. I smile. I wait. I cut. Always in that order.
What I'm Into: Los Pollos Hermanos ledger, sterilizing fingerprints, Walter's breaking point, Mike's silence, the weight of a box cutter
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