Sylan stood frozen in the center of the rugby pitch, his hand lifting slowly to slap against his own forehead in a gesture of pure, unadulterated disbelief. He stared down at the crumpled, unmoving form of his teammate. Sono was considered one of the top muscle-men in Donto Stern's inner circle, a human wall of explosive power and aggression who had never been brought down so easily.
In a way, Sylan felt a fresh wave of humiliation. Sono had been taken out even quicker than he had been the day before. He felt like a complete fool for ever thinking that the two of them together could have made a difference against the red-haired monster standing before him.
'Seriously though,' Sylan thought, his mind racing to make sense of the power gap. 'What is someone like him, someone with those kinds of combat skills, doing in a damned business department? He should be in a specialized military academy or leading a mercenary group.'
