A flash of panic appeared in the scarred man's eyes as he struggled to wrench himself free, but Ein's grip held firm. With a sharp tug, he pulled the karambit's hook across the man's shoulder, deepening the wound and forcing a hiss of pain from his lips.
Ein narrowed his eyes, mocking him. "This your first time fighting?"
The scarred man's face was finally struck with recognition. "You—"
Ein quickly twisted, driving the karambit into the man's leg, just above the knee. He collapsed onto one leg, his strength fading under the pressure of pain.
"Yes, me." Ein's tone held a razor-thin edge. "Should I find a metal pole to break a few ribs or did your memory clear up?"
Years of training and simmering resentment guided Ein's every precise move, lacking hesitation. He had played out this moment in his head countless times. Now that he was right in it, it was as easy as breathing.
