Belt With Hidden Knife 소설 & 이야기

“Are you coming?” “No. Just CEOs and their executive assistants.” Something in Sia’s tone made her sit up. “That sounds ominous as fuck.” Sia handed her the garment bag without expression. “Black tie. Tonight. Don’t embarrass him.” The moment Sia left, I switched to the interior feed of Floris’s suite. Watched her unzip the bag like it might contain her death sentence. Her fingers hesitated over the velvet. I saw the exact second her breath caught. The neckline dropped low. The slit climbed high. It was a weapon disguised as fabric—and the collar resting beside it was the blade.

Blood warmed beneath fabric. “Tomorrow we reach the main camp,” she said. “Exiles will want their turn. Cole will allow it.” She leaned closer. “By the time Damien finds you, you will be begging for death.” Then she stood and walked away. Natasha did not watch her leave. She studied her instead. The knife at her belt. Standard issue. Worn grip. Loose sheath. Quick access clasp. Not secure. The knot across Natasha’s chest. Tied in front. Visible. Checked but not reinforced. A mistake of overconfidence.

"This is yours. You scored it fair and square when you beat Henry and took it off of him. I also had this made for you..." He places his hand on mine and then pulls me up to my feet as he stands. He then steps away from me and picks up something from on the sofa near the window. When he comes back over, he stops in front of me and says, "I was going to give this to you before the change..." He then wraps a belt like thing around my waist that has a sheath for the Warrior Knife. He fastens the belt and then a strap connected to the sheath before sliding the Knife itself into the sheath. He then says,

Another walked in, carrying a small case. Inside: compact weapons. A thin blade that could be hidden in the hem of a dress. A micro‑pistol designed to fit in the palm and pass most standard scans. A garrote line that looked like a decorative chain. “Personal choices,” the handler said. “Choose two.” Lys’s hands hovered over them. Her fingers went to the blade first. It balanced perfectly between her fingers, weight familiar. She could feel a ghost memory of sliding a knife into a thigh holster under a tuxedo of Kael’s eyes flicking down to note it and back up with something like amused exasperation

The shock is too much to dissolve obviously. Roonie looked over at Pearl's unconscious body on the ground, and the darkness fogged around him even more, choking him mercilessly like a noose. Fire was burning sinisterly in his eyes as he drew out his belt. Surprisingly, the belt is a foldable sword, and the moment it came out, it stood straight in his hand. He threw it forward, and it flew into the crowd of The Titans. It came back to him after a minute, stained with blood already.

His collar is short enough to show over his T shirt which I love, that means I can show him off. "You look beautiful, now lets go," I say but he picks up a gun. "Don't bring a gun," I say and he frowns. "What if I need to protect you?" He asks. "You won't need to do that," I say but he stands firm. "Can I bring a knife?" He asks as he shows me one he can strap around his ankle under his jeans. "Fine, but keep it hidden," I say and he rolls up his pants to strap the large knife there. He covers it back over and stands up to show it can't be noticed.

"No matter what happens, no matter who tries to separate us." The ceramic knife hidden against my ribs pressed into my skin. I made sure it was a metal that can't be detected by metal detectors, sharp enough to open arteries, and very light enough to move quickly. Liliana wore her own arsenal disguised as jewelry. Hairpins, earrings, bracelet with hidden razor edges that could open wrists or throats. We looked like socialites attending a charity function, but we were warriors preparing for battle. At the entrance, the doormen gave us our masks. I was skeptical to put them on, but I had no choice. They were even numbered.

His sharp, angular features carried a calm, almost serene expression, but his dark, piercing eyes gleamed with predatory focus. The moment Egbert stepped into view, the crowd’s cheers shifted. It wasn’t the roar of excitement—it was something quieter, tinged with awe and fear. Even his name carried weight, a presence that silenced whispers. Around his waist was a leather belt adorned with silver emblems, each one marking a significant achievement in his martial journey. On his left hand, he wore a black glove that seemed reinforced with a metallic layer. His right hand, however, was bare, resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

he said. "I look like bait." "That too." He crossed the room and pulled something from his pocket. A small knife, no longer than my palm, with a blade that gleamed wickedly sharp. "Ankle holster. Hidden under your dress. Just in case." I let him strap it to my leg, his fingers careful and professional despite the intimacy of the gesture. When he was done, he stood and pressed his forehead to mine. "Five seconds," he murmured. "That's how long it will take me to reach you if something goes wrong. Five seconds. Remember that."

I didn’t need him to tell me. One of the masked figures lunged at me. I twisted, catching their wrist and slamming my elbow into their ribs. They barely flinched. Trained. They came prepared. As if this is something that they expected... I wrenched the knife from my attacker’s grip and shoved them back. As they stumbled, I saw something gleam at their hip—a symbol carved into the metal of their belt buckle. A moon split by three jagged lines. Recognition jolted through me.