imbalance
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Summary
Till kicks the mannequin head off the roof, enjoying the noise it makes as it splits on the sidewalk. Who pulls this kind of shit with someone who's armed and trained to kill? Whose job is to kill your kind specifically?
“You’re a little gullible, huh?” He whips around, sword and hackles raised.
The real Ivan pushes the mannequin aside with a clatter. He's wearing almost the same outfit, wielding a smile as if it’s a weapon of his own. “I promise not to take advantage of that. Much.”