Death, Murder, and Manslaughter

It made absolutely no sense to Sol or himself, watching as the black-armored, pink-haired man simply returned to his balance seamlessly with a smile despite his throat holding a gaping, blood-spewing gash.

The same as the case with his arms, abyssal strings of flesh extended from the jovial man's wounds, reconnecting his mutilated neck and returning it to its unharmed state in a seamless recovery.

"All good! You're a real ruthless one, you know that? You got me good! Aha-ha!" Dae-Mon laughed, ruffling his own hair.

Is he immortal or something? He questioned in disbelief.

As the two regrouped, standing side-by-side as they watched the abhorrent, seemingly unkillable man simply laugh off the injury that would be fatal for anybody else, they felt an eerie aura exude from Dae-Mon's position.