"Possibly, but since you own a crossbow, a sword, a sniper rifle and a hand gun, I don't think it's going to be you."

Sassing the lady holding a syringe to your thigh artery is not precisely what he meant to do, though that's what just happened anyway; his tone of voice, though, is matter-of-fact and there's a hint of recognition. Jason doesn't have the exact same array of weaponry in his considerably shittier apartment, particularly not the sword, but it's the mindset he thinks he recognizes. It's not that they're weapon nuts, collecting for the sake of feeling badass. They both have these things for reasons, he's pretty sure.

"It was Rex, by the way."