[Takasugi shrugs, an empty glance drawn to the liquid in his glass. It's growing diluted by the ice, flavor never a real factor, but its strength dissipating.]

They're taking care of loved ones, apparently.

Sounds like hostages, to me. [He takes a long drink, gulping down most of what remains in his glass.]

Not a good technique for people who don't have anyone to miss. [Himself included, implied.]