As little time as Jericho had to wonder about the aforementioned lasers, he had even less to try and piece together the situation between what he saw and what he was hearing. He caught glimpse of light reflected, shapes in motion. His expression turned a fast shade of focused, launching himself out of his frozen state, seemingly lunging at Hazama.

The whites of his eyes turned black as he moved past, a palm pushing and guiding Hazama's shoulder out of his way, as he leaped, vanishing.

The gunman's aim and steps suddenly staggered, recoiling and letting out a cry of confusion.

"Wh—No! What—?!" The gun fell out of his hands as he stepped backward, slipping to the ground against the wall. His body jerked upward, then slumped unconscious as Jericho reappeared, moving away from his work and back toward Hazama with an expression all muddled up with the seriousness of his task, doubt and fear of the scene at-hand. It was no place for a drawn-out discussion, after all.