In the darkness, they couldn't accurately judge Lorenzo's position at all; they could only rely on the continuous gunfire to keep pace with Lorenzo's steps, let alone that they weren't proper warriors themselves, merely a bunch of gang members.
The dagger swung down forcefully but failed to hit Lorenzo. The arm, gripping the weapon, fell in mid-air, and the next moment, Lorenzo's Folding Blade pierced through his throat.
Slashing horizontally, shattering along with half a body, the stench and the stale, hot air mixed together, turning into a gaseous fear.
Tasting this delicacy with each breath, and repaying it with the same shuddering.
This was Lorenzo's victory, the victory of fear.
Others continued to attack, he detonated the steam pipeline behind Lorenzo, with a high-pitched scream, hot gas spurted out, the instant impact causing Lorenzo to stagger; this was a force that could scald a person to death, but its effect on this monster was pitifully small.
