The blade swung down, whistling a promise of death.
Too slow.
Thanh Van was healing too slowly.
The blade aimed for his guts. The ragged edge would disembowel him like a fish.
Thanh Van's body unwillingly tensed, hoping that this would kill him.
It would be fine.
Kruger was worthy enough of an opponent.
The blade cut through his skin like a slow film. Thanh Van watched as the tip of the bloody knife reached his navel. It cut through the skin like butter, the droplets of blood pooling in the cavity before trickling outwards-
Then the blade halted.
Thanh Van let out a trembling breath as only the tip had buried inside his abdomen.
Despite not reaching his insides, the excruciating pain radiated throughout his body. He lay there, tightly wound up, each muscle straining in the face of death.
