Jolt was out of the bed in a second flat, two more and he was across the room. He had always been agile, no surprise when one considered his weapons of choice and the skill with which he wielded them. His body, changed though it was, seemed to remember the decades of fighting that had been drilled into it, and very suddenly he was laying Tanizaki flat with a well-aimed fist.

"Shut up," he barked, glaring daggers at the other man and pointedly ignoring the pain in his hand where it had met the unfortunate supervisor's face. "You're one to talk about standards, you creep. You don't deserve her."