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Blood seeps from Ethan's palms to the glass shard embedded in Chairman Kim's neck, intermingling with the man's own.
Useless, pathetic—his mind whirls in a frenzy as he wheezes, agonizingly hacking up a mouthful of blood. Chairman Kim isn't down. Ethan's hysteria spikes as he is tossed and crumpled aside; he skids against the rough concrete, hard. He tries to breathe, but every wrangled gasp is weak and in pain as his lungs expand, pushing at his ribcage.
He doubles over, choking. Ethan's vision spins. No, he can't—he can't die here. Sora would be devastated. He needs to repay his (annoying) debt to Heart Heater. Hell, that middle schooler still owes him a gazillion-or-so cash!
More blood dribbles out of his mouth. Chairman Kim stumbles over him, hands grappling at his neck, and Ethan's eyes jolt wide in terror. Every muscle aches and his torso is bruised with red and purples—one more punch to the gut and he's dead—
CRACK.
Lila slams the wooden beam over Chairman Kim's head. The man collapses, soundless, and the wind carries away the quiet sob that escapes Ethan as cars begin closing in on the scene.
Right. He's weak in reality.