Chapter 92: Cracked Immortal
Fighting William Oh is like fighting a tornado. A force of nature. I personally witnessed no less than fifty men violently tossed around and battered with furniture, all the while grasping at nothing but air. Then he came for me.
-Bill Brion, level 30 Bartender.
A wet cough erupted from Will as he limped along the pier, followed by a sharp pain through his chest that froze him in place until he remembered how to breathe.
Will gingerly poked his ribs, trying not to aggravate the many shallow cuts covering the majority of his body. They had just finished scabbing up.
I don’t think the rib’s busted, just…a little loose.
With that in mind, Will ran his tongue along a couple teeth that were wiggling a bit more than they should, spitting the coppery blood welling up into his sleeve.
Rule #1: don’t bleed into the ocean.
“You gonna live?” A reedy voice asked, prompting Will to glance up, Phantom Hand poised to take the man’s head off with a cannonball. A bar brawl is one thing, but following him into the dark of night…
Will relaxed when he recognized the emaciated, homeless fellow from before, rather than a Party leader with a grudge.