"Haa..."
Rey's hand moved with practiced efficiency, withdrawing a Scroll from his spatial storage—a Low-Sequence Soul Art technique that would stop Torven's heart without leaving obvious traces of violence.
It was the appropriate choice for someone of his supposed capabilities.
Not too powerful to suggest hidden resources, not too crude to appear incompetent. Just a professional execution using tools any well-equipped criminal manager might possess.
"Please," Torven begged, backing away. "I have children—"
"Then you should have considered them before betraying the organization that fed them," Rey replied coldly.
He activated the Scroll.
Torven's eyes widened, then glazed over as the Technique took effect.
"Guh!"
His body collapsed, the mystical energy stopping his vital functions with medical precision. To any investigation, it would appear as sudden cardiac failure—unfortunate but not uncommon, especially in someone experiencing extreme stress.
