Shizuo's very graceful and gracious response is a slightly dismissive snort.

"Not skilled. Probably just cursed or some shit."

Using the wall, he pushed himself out of his seating position and stood up, brushing any stray dirt off his trousers as he did. He crushed the end of his cigarette with his fingers, snuffing out the last lingering embers and apparently not giving a damn about any possible burning doing so might cause.

"Skill hasn't got anything to do with it. I just can."