"Yes. You are right." A deep breath, reaching out with one hand as the chalcedony stone in his right eye-socket flares a bright azure blue. It hurts. Like a knife is being driven through said eye-socket and directly into his brain, blood burning hot and acidic in his veins, but perhaps that is penance for taking the life of another in a dishonourable way.

Could Rokuro kill the man with a knife to the throat? Yes, except then he would have actual blood on his hands, and that would be harder to wash away than the memory of what he is about to do. He looks inside of the guard, into his heart which looks like any other heart, and with a soft breath... he stops it. Quickly and quietly. The guard doesn't awaken, struggle, or suffer. He will simply pass on.

"It is done." He wipes a trickle of blood away from his nose, looking anywhere but at the guard, or Tech, until he is able to fix the kabuki mask of calm back onto his face.

"Shall we?"