"I'm not being flattering." Giorno looks up, at the ceiling, looking for cameras and recording devices. Not that he's worried about them, actually, but it's good to know what others will have on film, on audio. Actually, looking is pointless - he'd assume they were there even if he didn't see anything. "Flattery is pointless, I don't waste my time on pointless things."

Which means he means it, every word. And this is, at least to him, definitely not without a point, or purpose. Giorno watches him again, in silence, for a beat. "Right now, I'm in the process of establishing a venture. A... casino? That seems a little grand, actually, and a bit too out in the open for my tastes, but who knows where it will go eventually.

"...my business at home dealt with that kind of thing." Mafia, man. Mafia. He gives a short nod. "Anyway, that kind of place needs at least two things: people skilled in games and people capable of handling any violent or dangerous situations that might arise from bitter losers." To be blunt. He shrugs. "No one likes losing, after all. Especially me."

"I wonder if you'd be interested in that kind of thing."