"I wasn't aware that property damage could be considered fun... for intelligent people."

Izaya grimaces behind the slightly astounded grin on his face. His office is a disaster zone, with him standing at its epicenter. He hopes that this Hazama had the cash to pay for everything, and even if he were to be unwilling in giving it up, he will find a way to make him. There was a small comforting relief that the head so precariously sitting atop one of his shelves remains unscathed, but that alone doesn't do much.

Especially with the character of Hazama's knife. It is similar to Saika, in a manner that both are supernatural and beyond human comprehension, honestly. And yet here he is, standing with his own puny, pathetic-in-comparison, mortal flickblade in hand with only a few scratches on his person. Izaya glares at this invader, sitting so smugly and triumphantly in his throne, from where he rules the Tokyo underground. His stomach turns. No one does that. Just like no one mocks him with such deep irony. He knows, and this usurper knows that only one of them can get out of this situation with their powerbase intact.

"You are reimbursing me for this, at the very least." It wasn't a question, request, or even a statement. It was an order, and a declaration of war.