Arthur Sterling did not raise his hands and he did not panic at all.
He just slowly tilted his head backward. He could feel the cold and sharp edge of a massive broadsword pressing gently against the back of his neck.
He calculated the angle of the blade in a fraction of a second. The weapon was held steady without any nervous tremors that usually accompanied a cheap slum mugging.
Whoever was holding that sword knew exactly how to use it. And they were definitely not bluffing.
"You are under arrest for unauthorized reality manipulation, debtor," the man stated coldly.
His voice was rough and scarred like grinding gravel. "Turn around slowly or I take your head off."
Arthur let out a slow and exhausted sigh. He wiped a streak of chemical runoff from his cheek and slowly pivoted on his heavy boots.
Standing before him was a man who looked like he had been chewed up and spat out by the universe itself.
