Rico shrugs casually as he moves further into the room, taking stock of everything around him. Peering down into shelves and shoving through beakers as he turns them around to read the labels, he searches the room similarly but nowhere near as fast as the supercharged juve is doing.

"Twenty? Thirty?"

He flicks his wrist to the side to check the ammo count on his lawgiver, as if he didn't know exactly how many it was already. Then he makes a little noise in the back of his throat, like he's pleasantly surprised by the number. "Thirty four. And the earliest ones I dealt with should be starting to get up right about..."

Rico glances at the imaginary chronometer on his wrist.

"...Now."

He pauses a moment to let that sink in.

"So I guess we'd better hurry up, huh?" he asks brightly, a little too cheerfully for the thought.