— The sword is for when I decide to kill, Vance — I replied. — And believe me... that is a weapon you do not want me to use.
The gray-haired man paled. The message was clear: if I did that with a firearm just to immobilize, what would I do when I finally drew the blade? Respect and terror mingled on his face.
I ran back to the front line.
I slid behind our car, expecting to find Jun-ho changing his pistol magazines.
He didn't have his pistols out. But he had seen everything. He looked at the fallen men with precision and then at my unshakable expression.
He said nothing about me exposing myself. He simply flashed a smile, his dark eyes shining with a sickly, possessive pride.
— A Blade that doesn't even need to be drawn to cut — Jun-ho whispered, running his hand over my rain-soaked face. — Beautiful.
And then his gaze shifted from me, and the proud expression gave way to pure hatred.
