Install Steam
login
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem
⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⠿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿
⣿⣷⣀⠀⠈⠛⠢⠥⠴⠟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠉⣛⠉⠁⠀⠐⠲⠤⠖⠛⠁⠀⠀⣐⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⣤⣦⣿⣿⣿⣆⣴⣠⣀⣀⡀⣀⣀⣚⣿⣿⣿⢳
⣧⠉⠙⢿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢇⣿
⣿⣷⡄⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣥⣦⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢉⣴⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣦⣘⠋⢻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣭⣛⣛⣛⣯⣷⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠉⣴⣿⣿⣿
⢠⠖⢲⠀⠀⡖⢲⡄⡴⠒⠆⡖⠒⠂⠀⣶⠲⡄⢰⡆⠀⡖⢦⠀⡆⢰⡆⡴⠒⣄
⢨⠟⢻⠀⠀⣏⣉⠇⢧⣀⡄⣏⣉⡁⠀⣿⠚⢡⠗⠺⡄⣏⣹⠆⡏⢹⡇⢧⣀⡞
⢰⣒⡒⠰⡄⡴⠀⡶⢲⡆⢢⣀⡖⠀⠀⡖⠒⠲⢰⠒⣦⢀⡶⡄⠒⢲⠒⢲⣆⣀
⠸⠤⠽⠠⠽⠁⣴⠧⠼⣧⠤⠟⠀⠀⠈⠧⣤⠤⠸⠉⠁⠞⠒⠳⠀⠸⠀⠸⠧⠼
If you're watching this tape, I'm probably dead– murdered by my brother-in-law, Hank Schrader. Hank has been building a meth empire for over a year now, and using me as his chemist. Shortly after my 50th birthday, he asked that I use my chemistry knowledge to cook methamphetamine, which he would then sell using connections that he made through his career with the DEA. I was... astounded. I... I always thought Hank was a very moral man, and I was particularly vulnerable at the time – something he knew and took advantage of. I was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. Hank took me in on a ride-along and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make. And I was weak. I didn't want my family to go into financial ruin, so I agreed.