Black Lagoon: Roberta File

He was a ruin of a man. Colonel Miguel Ochoa was withered, his skin yellowed, his head bald and spotted with lesions. An oxygen tube snaked into his nose. But his eyes—those cold, clever eyes—were still sharp as shards of glass.

She pulled a worn photograph from her coat pocket. It showed a dozen men in fatigues, grinning at the camera. In the center stood a young woman with silver hair and no glasses, holding an assault rifle like a lover. At her side, a handsome, brutal-looking man with cold, clever eyes. black lagoon: roberta

“You’re making a legend of yourself again,” Rock said, stepping over broken pews. “People are starting to call you the Black Reaper.” He was a ruin of a man

Behind her, Colonel Miguel Ochoa began to scream. But his eyes—those cold, clever eyes—were still sharp