[Volgin did not fear the revolver either; cooking the gunpowder solved a lot of firearms-based problems. He did not have bullets on his person. He had no need for them.

Besides, a struggle made things... much more interesting.]

But I feel your death would best benefit all of us. Just think of the greater good.

[His words were a strained calm; it was getting too hard to restrain himself, every nerve in him calling for that boy's head to be split open like a flower in bloom.]

I'm afraid my word supersedes yours, Major Ocelot.

[With that, he finally attacked, fast in his own right given his mass but still likely not a match for the Major's reflexes and speed: An electrical fist darted out from the side to knock the gun away, his other arm ready to crack into his gut.]