Those words bring a blink -- because Ran does sense that they're meant. She doesn't resist Vermouth leaning down, doesn't make any sudden moves . . . only studies the woman's face, brow furrowed slightly. This is a woman willing to kill, who makes light, who plays games with her words . . . but also a woman wanting to protect -- at least when that comes to Ran -- whose words speak to some bitterness about life, even as much as they still deflect. "I know you're willing to hurt others, but I don't think you're willing to hurt me. Why?"

She doesn't move away, twisting just slightly to try to give Vermouth a better look -- though the movement brings a sudden hiss between her teeth. There's definitely blood where the laser sliced through the skin; it seeps through the edge of her shorts and down her thigh. However, it's also a burn, seared by the laser's energy, the skin reddened and angry, already starting to blister.