Szayel scowled. Their unified front only confirmed what Szayel thought of the pair of them, namely that they were almost certainly screwing, if the fact that both of them were dreadfully attractive wasn't enough to confirm that then the wordless communication, whole sentences and conversations happening through snatched glances and the tilt of someone's head, certainly was. Unfortunately, right now it was infuriating.

"Fine," he answered, as if that was the end of the argument as far as he was concerned. "Let's hope this rustic," he'd caught that, and between Lumi saying that and Even's attitude to scientific advancement on Spira, Szayel got the impression they considered this world backwards, "world doesn't contain more hazards to your current health than you're used to."

He'd been treated for a gunshot before, fine. But refusing treatment now if he considered this world so damned rustic was insanity.

He grabbed a swab and carefully removed the cannula from Lumi's arm, telling him, "Hold that while I get some tape."

And hide the cannula with the drop of blood still lingering in it.