Justice
If you faced anything at all worthy of being called a monster, not having your priorities straight got you killed. No amount of skill or firepower could help you if your approach wasn't in order. Justice grumbled unimpressed, but wondered if that was really all she had to say about the boy in question. "He should've gotten a rifle. But that's where his choices brought him."
To her question though, he tipped the edge of his hat up, the better to look back at those eyes.
"A veteran from my old gang," the rider said. "Made most of our weapons, and routinely threatened to kill us for damaging them, too. A bit too attached to the 'masterworks', maybe, but there was hardly anyone who could match that genius."
He left out the part where the same person was responsible for turning the still-living spines of abyssal behemoths into horrific siege machines, it didn't seem like she'd find it that nearly as important.