[Distracted as he may seem by the blood at his wrist, Mitsuhide isn't distracted enough to be caught so simply. He snaps his hand back, pointing a golden-eyed glare at Cain, his lips pressed together in a thin line rather than their usual smile.]

Pray tell, what part of the list on the table over there has given you the mistaken impression that I've any intention of submitting to such a thing? [There's a slight pause, and then that smile is creeping back.] Not that it would be the first time, admittedly.

[Make of that what you will.]

If you're so eager, why don't we start with your list?