"Listen kid, I don't know if you can't hear or something, but—"
The touch triggered something.
James saw his mother's phone ringing unanswered. The destroyed house. The note threatening her. His father's corpse in a wooden box seven years ago. Derek's smug face. Uncle's theft. Years of powerlessness.
Someone touching him like he was still that powerless kid.
He didn't finish the sentence.
James's hand moved to his inventory and his B-rank sword materialized instantly in his grip. In the same motion, he drove the blade forward and up, under the bald guy's ribs, piercing straight through to the heart. The movement was fast, practiced, cold. No hesitation. No warning.
The bald guy's eyes went wide with shock. His mouth opened but no sound came out except a wet gasp. He looked down at the sword buried in his chest, then back up at James's face. His expression was pure disbelief, the look of someone who doesn't understand what just happened or why.
