Practice makes perfect, or that's at least what folks said; and Bryan Murphy literally spend almost every waking moment of his life practicing and training. It wasn't to stay sharp, or to even truly better himself. Honestly he did it to keep his mind off his young son...the boy he hadn't seen in far too long. The only saving grace to it, the only thing that kept him from going nuts, was knowing that his work here kept cash flowing back to his folks who were raising their grandson. Beyond that, all Void could do was hurl himself into his work, and try not to think beyond the moment in front of him.
When that blade suddenly hurled right past him and slammed into the wall just an inch or two away from his hand, there was no reaction at all. No flinch, no sudden outcry or anger. If anything the man just pulled the blade free and added it to the others he was carrying back. All sense of self preservation, that natural instinct of fight or flight, it had vanished since he stole the power of regeneration from a super a few years back. Oh he still felt pain, but it didn't matter any more. Not when he had survived things that would've killed him over dozens of times by now.
"Not bad. Just don't forget to reverse that when you are throwing handle side first. Throwing blade side will always equal half a rotation, and hilt side a full. So a quarter inch up with the handle, and down with the blade." When he reached the table before her Void just carefully set the knives back down in the order he had picked them up, and handed over the one she had thrown.