A simple move, an easily countered technique, yet Ghost leapt back a big step, gripping the Mother-Son blades with both hands. A bead of sweat dripped from his smooth forehead onto his exposed shoulder. He saw clearly how Xiao Lin treated the child whose throat he had slashed.
He had deliberately not cut the child's throat too deeply because he knew that while such a wound might not kill instantly, it was impossible to heal. The varying depth of the cut posed a challenge even with the best stitching resources, let alone here where there was nothing.
But he was facing a Military Doctor, that legendary man akin to a god. If he wanted to save someone, there was always a slim chance, no matter the difficulty.
Originally, he hadn't believed it. But upon seeing him use only his weapon to sew up a ten-centimeter wound, he felt fear! This wasn't the fear of an opponent, but the fear of becoming this man's enemy.
