[his breath caught in his chest at the sudden intensity of those words, and he found himself trying to imagine the sort of determination and will power it would take to perform an action of that calibur. Although his own memories of violence were accompanied by an odd sense of understanding and peace, it paled in comparison to what was described because he knew for a fact that the ideals he was working toward were, ultimately, the dreams of another person.

But Koumei didn't tear his eyes away from Squalo. Instead, he simply sought to recover his breath.]

That kind of determination is...admirable, [he said, squeezing the well crafted prosthetic in his own hands, as if to understand the piece a little better.]

It's attractive too...though it's hard to imagine the depth of your drivve.