Shiryu took a deep drag from the cigar that was nearly burned out in his mouth, then flicked it away with a bent finger. He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, moved with chilling killing intent, and charged at the two men. A blood-red flash of blade light streaked through the air.
The two scattered apart, not daring to meet the powerful slash head-on. They could not withstand such a forceful attack.
The man in the gentleman's suit moved both hands, sending four playing cards flying through the air in strange arcs. They were as powerful as bullets, yet far more unpredictable.
Shiryu darted about, swinging Raiu again to cut down one specially made playing card and deal with three others. Yet he dodged the final card in apparent panic, hurriedly avoiding it and leaving a slight opening in his movements.
The opening was neither large nor obvious, but the dwarf, a veteran assassin, caught it. Without hesitation, he burst forward at full speed. He was no slouch in speed either, crossing the dozen or so meters in an instant.
He wanted to escape as quickly as possible and did not wish to waste even a moment. But if he could not kill his opponent, he at least had to injure him. Otherwise, the odds of getting away were simply too low.
The dwarf truly deserved his reputation as an assassin. His attack was vicious. He leaped from the side toward Shiryu's waist, thrusting two blue-tinted daggers—clearly coated in deadly poison—at Shiryu's kidneys.
What a vicious method of attack. He was trying to ruin Shiryu's happiness for life. If those blades went in, even if Shiryu did not die, he would suffer severe injuries.
However, Shiryu was clearly not so easily dealt with. Every swordsman had gone through countless battles