Prominent Leg slowly straightened, his face was a ruin, smeared with blood, one eye swollen shut. Yet a calm, almost serene smile lingered on his lips.
He extended his hand, and with slow deliberation, a small black pouch shimmered into existence. Opening it with care, he withdrew a glass vial filled with a thick, crimson liquid.
He raised it to his lips and drank.
A wistful look crossed his face as he stared at the empty bottle, then he exhaled softly and tossed it aside.
That was when something shifted—something that drew a dark frown from the military man.
Prominent Leg's wounds began knitting together. The blood on his face evaporated like dew under sunlight, and a faint glow returned to his skin, lending it a vitality that hadn't been there moments before.
"...Oh? So you had a trick up your sleeve after all."
Prominent Leg offered a lazy shrug.
