(Arkgrim's POV)

  I cracked my eyes open. Fluorescent lights flashed overhead at breakneck speed, blurring into a single white streak. The beeping of monitors, the shouts of doctors, the clatter of the gurney's wheels...

  'What a load of crap,' I thought, looking at the blood-soaked gurney.

  Honestly, my theatrical level today deserved at least an Oscar. Fall into a pool of my own blood at the gunpoint of a dozen barrels? Executed perfectly. Convince professional killers to back off, making them think they got the wrong guy? Flawless.

  It was the only way to get them off my back. Whoever they were and whatever they were looking for, to them, Arkgrim Helv is now just a corpse or a random casualty unworthy of attention.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Sure, it hurt. Shifting vital organs a couple of centimeters to the side right at the moment of the gunshot so the bullets would pass through "unimportant" meat.

  Unpleasant. Damn unpleasant to play along with all this. All these syringes, Rabuki's adrenaline, the chases, and now holes in my stomach on top of it... I felt like an actor in a cheap action movie who they forgot to give a stunt double.

  I cast a sidelong glance at the doctors. One of them, a young guy, looked like he was about to pass out himself. His hands were shaking as he tried to apply pressure to my wound.

  'Alright,' I decided. 'Let them sew. I'll sleep for an hour or two while they dig around in my guts, and then I'll just walk out of here like nothing happened.'

  I closed my eyes, letting the darkness of the anesthesia pull me under. After all, following such an action-packed day, I deserved a proper rest. Even if it's on an operating table.