Damn! This bastard was faster than any opponent Caim had faced in a long while. No sense in trying to duck behind the desk anymore and use it as a moving shield. Instead, Caim's eye darted from the claws bound to the back of Farfarello's hand to the small but lethal knife in his other and finally back down to the desk. He paused for a few seconds, then ducked down, seized one of the handles of the desk drawer, and pulled.

The drawer came out, caught, and then splintered free. Caim swung up with it, attmpting to nail Farfarello in the crotch and at least make him bleed. Clearly, this man felt no pain; given that Caim did, he was at a severe disadvantage. His other hand went for another drawer, attempting to snap it free as well if the first failed to hit its mark.