"Prefer knives." He could handle any kind of blade. And anything he threw, if he put his power behind it, was thrown with deadly accuracy. "Small enough to conceal, deadly enough to get the job done."
He twirled the knife he held. It spun in a perfect arc before he caught it by the blunt end. He wore gloves, but he wasn't in the habit of cutting himself with his knives.
"My father insisted I train to perfection." He'd had no other trainer, no mentor unless his mother counted because she was his biggest support and comfort where his father was all business, and do what you're told.