Gunk-Mire was cornered.
Kuroyami's tentacles still bound his arms and throat. Nagase's anti-regeneration rounds had left open, smoking wounds across his chest and shoulders. The toxin cloud had thinned. For the first time the giant's bloodshot eyes showed something other than rage.
He slowly scanned the mountains of scrap, the chemical pools, the cracked ground. Then, without any warning, he started laughing. The sound was wet, broken, and completely empty of humor.
Kuroyami's eyes narrowed under the shadow mask. The laugh crawled under his skin.
He had always kept his voice polite, almost soft, even in the middle of killing. That calm was gone now. The earlier words about the "tasty little girl" still burned in his head.
"You sick piece of shit," Kuroyami snarled. "Still laughing?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
