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“Oh, fuck,” Oh Kang-Woo expressed.
‘He’s not dead, is he? That’d be bad.’
Kang-Woo looked down at the fist he had used to punch Fidelio.
‘Dammit, I held back quite a lot on that.’
He had held back to a level that he would use to wipe off dust from his hands; no, even more than that. He had not even used a single speck of demonic energy, but…
“Kurgh! Guuuu…”
“Hey, you good? Whoa, you lost a few teeth. Your nose is a bit crooked too, I think.”
“Y-You bastaaaaard!!”
“But for real, I held back a lot on that, okay? Come to think of it, I’m older than you. Why are you talking down to me, fucker?”
Fidelio glared at Kang-Woo.
Clack!
“Oh, what’s with these guys?”
As Kang-Woo turned around while snickering, twelve knights wearing black armor appeared out of nowhere and surrounded him. Sharp swords were pointed at his neck, eyes, heart and groin. Kang-Woo whistled.
“Holy shit, that’s some badass armor. But I think you guys messed up the timing for your appearance a little.”
‘You should’ve appeared before I fucking decked Fidelio in the face. Just look at him, he’s crawling on the floor with blood pouring out from his nose.’
“Also, do you mind not pointing your sword there, my guy? My François is trembling in fear.”
‘He’s already lifeless enough as it is, you fucking sons of bit...
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