Torchwick handed the handsome man, who sat casually with his feet on his desk, the knives that had pierced the side of his bullhead. They had buried themselves so deep that the points had actually entered the inside.
The man smiled and sucked on his cigar. The tip flared red and he breathed out the thick gray smoke in a massive cloud.
He put two knives down on his desk but kept one in his hand which he began tossing in the air with incredible ease.
What a clever, clever girl.
He was so proud of her.
Torchwick just stared at his employer, wondering at the happiness on his attractive features.
He, on the other hand, was furious that Dahlia wasn't dead and that she had been out on her own since that last mission. He'd been heartbroken to learn that those red eyed bastards had killed her.
But the man named Omar Derivalle, the secret mastermind of Remnant, just sat there grinning, throwing his daughter's knife in the air.
"She's alive."