The cutting process was not easy. After all, her limbs had sensation. Although Anna could endure the agony of flaying skin and scraping bone, that didn't mean she enjoyed it.
When she was finished, her forehead was covered in sweat, and the table was completely soaked in blood.
The clown approached Anna and made an apologetic gesture with his entire body.
Picking up the cup from the table and taking a sip, Anna shook her head and said, "I don't blame you. Think about it—the ability to regenerate severed limbs is likely impossible for you. This arm is just a temporary fix."
"I called you over to talk about us, not this."
The clown straightened his suit and adopted a quiet listening posture.
"There are some things you know even without me saying them. Back when we were in IMF custody, you know what kind of life we had. I'm sure you didn't enjoy it."
