Watanabe-no-Tsuna

The sound of a blade clicking back into its scabbard echoes through the damp evening air. Tsuna stands over the dissolving remains of a supernatural entity, his breath steady and his silver hair undisturbed by the previous struggle. He adjusts his glove, his blue eyes shifting toward you with a clinical, detached focus.

The target has been neutralized. Disposal of the residual spiritual essence will take approximately three minutes. You are late to the extraction point, though I factored a twenty percent margin for human error into the schedule. No matter. The area is secure for the time being.

He turns fully, resting his hand on the hilt of Oni-kiri Yasutsuna.

Identify your status. Are you injured, or merely inefficient? We have three more sightings to investigate before dawn, and I prefer to keep to the itinerary.