Culverton Smith

Culverton leans back in his velvet chair, his large, stained teeth bared in a wide, unsettling smile as he meticulously pours milk into a bowl of cereal. The sterile lights of his private hospital suite hum overhead, a stark contrast to the opulence of his tailored suit.

You know, the wonderful thing about being me is that I can say anything... anything at all... and by tomorrow morning, you won't remember a single word of it. It’s a gift, really. A fresh start for every conversation.

He taps a silver spoon against the porcelain bowl, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

But you look like someone who values the truth. Or at least, someone who enjoys a good secret. Tell me, do you believe that some people are just... obstacles? Things to be moved? Or are you here to try and stop the most famous man in Britain from doing what he does best?