Soren was left shocked. If Pencil had been the one here and not him, that attack would have hit target.
His pulse hammered in his ears.
He spun back toward Pencil, who was frozen in place—staring at the collapsed cadet like his soul had left his body.
"Pencil!" Soren snapped at him. "Get the porter. Now. Hurry!"
Pencil jolted like he'd been shocked.
"Y–Yes! Yes, right away!" he stammered, but hesitated to ho out the hallway.
Then he remembered he could just make the report with his watch.
Soren didn't wait.
He launched forward, boots slamming against the floor as he tore down the corridor after the black-clad figure.
The assassin didn't look back.
They moved like a shadow peeling itself off the wall—silent, fast, and inhumanly smooth.
Soren clenched his jaw and pushed harder.
"Hey!" He screamed.
However, the figure flicked their wrist.
A needle shrieked through the air.
Soren twisted his torso sideways at the last second.
