Ghiaccio placed a hand over his stomach, specifically the spot he was shanked in. He was breathing heavy with a look of shock on his face, before it turned into a smug smirk. The wound started to close itself again, flesh, muscle and veins reformed itself again, a gruesome sight to most. It was a short minute before he was fully regenerated again, the only evidence being the blood stain on his blouse, which he proceeded to take off.
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