Jagger crouched in front of the corpse, his focus already shifting, his mind narrowing into something colder, sharper. The world beyond the carcass dimmed, pushed to the edges as instinct took over.
Then he felt her again.
This time, she did not touch him. She simply crouched beside him, her movements cautious, measured, as if approaching something dangerous yet fascinating.
'She is annoying,' Ophilia's voice slipped into his thoughts, cold and edged. 'And she is touching what is mine.'
Jagger's jaw tightened, a faint muscle ticking along his cheek.
"Ignore it," he muttered under his breath.
"What?" Soo-min blinked, tilting her head slightly, her brows knitting in confusion.
"Nothing."
He reached forward at last, gripping the Bowie knife. Without hesitation, he drove the blade down hard and deep into the Skitterer's torso. The edge slid through chitin and flesh with disturbing ease, his movements efficient and deliberate, as though he had done this a hundred times before.
