During the tense battle, Cross made sure to plan out his moves carefully. He knew Killer was dangerous, but he had an important note to deliver. It didn’t matter if he got hurt. He clutched his hand in his pocket, having a tight grasp on the envelope.

Killer! Damn you, I just want to talk! Can’t you give me a single moment to speak!?

Cross cried out his plea, his brow narrowed in frustration. The two of them used to be friends, and he missed it, but he needed more than just his friendship.