"What the fuck kind of father are you?!"
Frank's roar shattered the silence of the street corner. The muzzle of his M1911 pistol pressed hard against Damon's forehead, the safety off and his finger tight on the trigger.
Damon pushed open the door of his secondhand Ford sedan. Facing the dark muzzle, he didn't so much as blink. His hollow-eyed face remained utterly cold.
"Put the gun down, buddy." Damon's voice was hoarse. "We're doing the same thing. Cleaning up this city's trash."
"Cleaning up trash?"
The violence in Frank's eyes threatened to spill over. He grabbed Damon by the collar and slammed him against the car door with a dull thud.
"That's your excuse! You let a girl who isn't even twelve take a sword and hack through people's necks! You turned her into a killing machine! You don't deserve to be a father!"
Frank's mind was filled with images of his daughter, Lisa. If it had been his daughter, he would rather have gone to hell, rather have been cut to pieces, than let a single drop of blood stain her hands.
Sending a child onto a battlefield was the vilest desecration of the word "parent"!
"Let go of Big Daddy!"
A sharp young voice suddenly rang out, steeped in murderous intent.
Mindy became a purple blur and appeared at Frank's side in an instant. Two katanas smeared with blood and brain matter crossed at his throat like striking vipers. Their keen edges had already cut his skin, drawing tiny beads of blood.
"Touch him again, and I'll slice you into sashimi, you freak with the skull on your chest." Mindy chewed on a Strawberry Lollipop, her eyes as cold as those of a battle-hardened professional killer.
Frank didn't even glance at the blades against his neck. He