"Put the gun down,"
Mercury clutched her injured shoulder and sat up. Her face was deathly pale, a stark white against the pitch-black curtain of rain, as if she were a ghost whose soul had been frozen right out of her. "...If you're any kind of competent Hunter, you should've heard of me."
The Knight Family's driver panted, his eyes peering out from behind the gun to scan Mercury's face.
He paused. For a moment, it was impossible to tell if he recognized Mercury. Then, a second later, he abruptly started laughing.
"So you're the Cleaner Fish who'll do any job as long as the pay is right. Can you even lift your arm anymore? Can't fire a gun now, can you? Who hired you to wreck our truck?"
Unclear whether from injury or agitation, he heaved great clouds of white vapor with each breath. The muzzle of the gun in his hand trembled, but it remained pointed at Mercury and Mai Mingle. "It doesn't matter. Once we get you back to the Family Faction, we'll get to the bottom of this."
