Fortunately, the invisible, oppressive force that had pinned me to the ground has vanished. I leap to my feet—my injuries from the fall healing instantly—and execute a series of swift backward jumps, putting distance between myself and Gin.
Those eyes… those cursed eyes with sclerae as blue as the night sky and irises so black they devour the light. They are the very same eyes that have haunted me since that morning, the day he almost killed me.
«It seems we're the only ones left, Ren Volkom,» Gin says, his cold voice cutting through the silence. «I must admit, I was hoping for this. After all, fighting you is the only reason I agreed to take part in this charade. Or rather… to fight the other you.»
The other me...? He must be referring to the parasite. After that night—the night I killed Robert Lekhtor, one of the four pillars of the Black Jacket—I swore I would rather die than ever use that power again. It's too... unnatural, too wicked to let it take over my body again.
