Greed was taken aback literally and figuratively as he felt a strong hand grip the collar of his embarrassing grey uniform and haul not only him but his quarry upwards.

No surprise that it was the same weirdo as before, and now that he was closer, Greed found that the man looked familiar, eerily so, though he was sure he'd never met him before.

Wait, the eyepatch--Greed's eyes widened, then narrowed at the man's revealing that he knew his identity, and more, his sad history. It didn't take long for the homunculus to put one and two and three together--newspaper clippings and spying revelations, as well as Dante's murmurs of future plans while he'd been in the hag's employ--and he finally gave a crooked grin as he realized just who--and what--this man was.

"I'm not friendly with traitors," Greed spat through a wide sneer, "or with that bitch's dogs."