King's knife was much longer than Atlas Hallow's. As it sliced through the air, it also ripped through Atlas Hallow's shirt. The black shirt burst open, revealing deep bronze skin, with a long bloody gash that was extraordinarily glaring.
Chloe Baird immediately tried to leap onto the boxing ring, but the man beside her held her down: "That's his daughter; if anyone is going to die, it's going to be him, not you."
King's skill was not easily overwhelmed, every move vicious beyond compare.
When he saw the blood on the knife's edge, he extended his tongue to lick it, with a ferocious grin on his face, and came slashing again.
Atlas did not dodge. His eyes flickered briefly, and just as the blade was about to pierce him, he sidestepped and grabbed King's wrist, then twisted it back. The strong wrist bone seemed to snap, forming a terrible obtuse angle, and the long military knife plunged into King's own ribcage.
It won't kill, but it will hurt like hell…
