Carl stuck out his blood-red tongue and licked his lower lip, spitting blood and phlegm from his mouth. He looked up at Miyamoto in confusion. By rights, Miyamoto Gangming should have taken this chance to finish him off, but Miyamoto Gangming didn't go after him, just stood there without moving.
Carl soon realized that Miyamoto's attention wasn't on him at all, but skewed toward the restroom door behind him. His doubts were quickly answered. Another tall white guy walked out from the bathroom. Carl recognized him at a glance—Stephen, from a big Western family, ranked about the same as him on the global expert lists.
Stephen raised his eyebrows, grinned, and pulled a 30-centimeter-long dagger from beside his thigh, half-squatting with his face slightly relaxed.
