"Shhhh," a fountain of dark red blood sprayed from Number Four's throat. The only sound in the room post-explosion was the rustling of blood spurting out, a melody akin to a gentle breeze rustling tree leaves. With the attack seemingly successful, Passion had already distanced herself while carrying Indulgence, leaving Number Four alone where she stood.
Number Four, her throat slashed, didn't seem fatally wounded. As a ghoul, she no longer needed to breathe. As such, she simply pressed her hand against the gaping wound on her neck to stanch the flow of blood. Taking advantage of Passion's departure, she rushed over to Number Three for assistance.
Weirdly, Passion and Indulgence mounted on her back, didn't react at all, no sign of an impending counterattack. They only gazed silently at Number Four's movements, not uttering a single word.
