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He smiled and gave a snicker. "Mischief on Kyushu." He then looked to her with his smile before returning his look forward. "That reminds me of a time past around a Poker table. Something tells me that you would have enjoyed working with me back then."
As they walked, she would feel the pistols where he said they were, one high, one low. Keeping them concealed but accessible, it was obvious that he kept them more as a defensive measure.
"That fan can be quite deadly with a sharp edge, especially the exposed larynx. Still, I know of the mission of the Chrysanthemums. If you want a man to suffer, a good set of sharpened hairsticks puncturing the chest cavity to allow the slow collapse of a lung is scary, very uncomfortable and eventually deadly."
"And if you want just to make someone scream in pain but not die, well, there are many ways."
They got to the airlock. "Your chariot may be made for war but no one will suspect mine." He smiled, "Your call, your chariot or mine?"