That comment, of course, gets a very unique reaction from Silco. He focused his two blackened eyes at Hythlodaeus, and his lips twitched, as if there was an unpleasant odor in the air. His fingers of his left hand, gloved, clutched around his glass, and he lifted it to his lips, to take a drink. There's an air to him, feigned casualness, but the air is heavy, and Silco's unblinking orange eye bored into the man, an ember that burned with Such hate. He turned his gaze to the rest of the bar, to look it over again. With his back to the wall, he can't be choked from behind, but even so...

He almost wonders if he can't breathe, the way he felt in that moment, the way his body went too-tight and ready to run. He can't do that to Jinx again.

"At the very least," he said, his tone a tight, iron-clad neutral.

It's a landmine that he stepped on, and Silco isn't kind enough to pretend otherwise. He's quick to move on, to not acknowledge the decades of history he had with the man, and instead, he let go of his glass, and continued to stare over the rest of the bar.

"What would have made me... "happy"," if that was even a thing he could have ever experienced, "is not possible. Revolution for my city, legitimacy, and freedom that doesn't exist, now that it's gone. Therefore..." he tipped his head, and a pleasant, fake smile lit across his face. "I'm never happy."

It's a fact, and certainly not something that Silco felt he had to hide. He was a Zaunite, after all. What was the concept of happiness to them?