That combined with his general sluggish thanks to the injury on his back rendered him completely useless when it came to avoiding my attack.My scythe ...truck him in the centre of his chest, spilling a lot of blood. I didn’t stop at that though. I knew I had the advantage for just a few moments before my core would give out. I retrieved my scythe from his chest and struck once again, this time aiming for his neck. In a way reminiscent of the grim reaper, I completely separated his head from his. "I never claimed to be perfect. I leave things like that to Ms.Made back there." The two finished the long corridor by passing throughanother set of large, oak doors. This set led direct into the largeoffice of Morris Fueller. Fueller sat behind his desk, a smile less perfect than thesecretary but obviously worked on by his finest scientists. The officewas big, windowless, and dimly lit, making it seem like a library fromthe Middle Ages. As the two reporters made their way toward Fuelleracross. More

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