KNIGHT

「ただ話がしたいだけだ、旧友よ。それの何がいけない？」

(“I just want to talk, old friend. Is there something wrong with that?”) Knight said with a smile, head tilted as he glanced at the wall. Fang held the phone steady for him.

「お前に言うことは何もない、ナイト。言葉を交わす時間は終わった。俺はお前の首と…お前の女の首を取りに来た。」

(“I have nothing to say to you, Knight. The time for words is over. I’m here for your head—and your wife’s,” )Takeshi spat in rapid-fire Japanese.

Knight didn’t flinch. He just kept smiling.

The knife he’d been spinning in his hand suddenly flew—burying itself deep in the chest of the man kneeling a few feet away. The blade joined several others already embedded there. Blood poured from his wounds. He was barely hanging on...