"My hand! My fucking hand!"
"Someone help me!"
"Medical emergency on Floor Eighty-Two!"
"Call an ambulance immediately!"
Near the centre of the destruction, the shattered remains of the bed finally stopped moving.
A groan emerged from beneath the debris.
"Arrh!"
Lackey slowly pushed himself upright.
His back felt as if someone had repeatedly struck it with a hammer.
Fragments of glass slid from his shoulders while dust drifted from his charred skin.
For several seconds, he simply stood there, breathing heavily.
Then he glanced downward.
Blood?
The sudden deceleration had torn skin apart despite his durability.
*Fuck... that hurts.*
His voice came out hoarse as he stared at the injuries.
"W-Who are you?!" one of the employees shouted, his voice trembling as he stared at the naked, charred stranger standing amidst the destruction.
Lackey barely acknowledged him.
