"Your blood, motherfucker." That wicked grin is back, impossibly wide, flashing his razor sharp teeth. "No harm in getting help from others, right? Do I have to help you, or are you going to do it yourself?" He catches sight of that glove, and chuckles, slamming his foot down on Lelouch's hand at an awkward angle. If something breaks, or just hurts, he doesn't care.