A cure. Cute. That had been hinted about previously, and here it was, from the mouth of the man himself. Still, it nearly meant nothing but a possibility-- Albedo knew well enough that the promise of treatment meant nothing in actuality. Hadn't that girl taught him that? A shudder fled through him at the thought, and he ignored it all the same.

There was much more and many to be discussed after all. No need to bring the dead into the talk of those still yet living. Even if not for much longer.

The boy leaned forward, bringing a hand up to frame his face, tapping fingertips on his cheekbone. "You're speaking of illness and cures. Isn't the reward obvious, then? You're asking me to bring about others' deaths for my brother's life. And why not just kill them with your own power? Isn't that within your means?" An obvious yes, but Albedo understood further in this at least. He giggled lightly. "Except if you killed them, you'd be setting yourself up as the villain. And since Doyle's been gone, you seem to have shirked that role; playing instead the part of the well-meaning jailer. If instead, other patients rose to strike down those who succumbed... Then you would have unrest and distrust within instead of without."

The hand on his face gestured to the man in question. "Am I wrong?"