"I-I'm going to kill this motherfucka!" Kyle threw caution to the wind and drew his sword, his face so congested and flushed with hatred that he looked like he was about to keel over.
Jake immediately sensed that the situation was about to turn sour and attempted to talk him down, but as he mulled over his next words he was startled to find the playboy no longer at his side. Where Kyle had been standing a second earlier the plump, ovoid leaves of the bush he was hiding behind were swaying wildly in testimony to the turbulence they had experienced.
As a top tier Third-Ordeal Player, Jake found it hard to believe that someone like Kyle could escape his senses, but it had happened. With a solemn expression, he focused his gaze on his surroundings and it was only by squinting narrowly that he was able to capture the silhouette of his comrade with his eyes.
