Jang's deadened reflexes were a little too slow, and did little to block the oncoming slap.
Of course, all of the writhing fishgirl's bravado dissappeared at the slightest application of pain, and had her blubbering like a child in seconds. The knife in the shoulder was no fluke. Jang just had no concept of self-control or pride. -and no concept of racism, but certainly enough of a history of being taken advantage of to let it blur her barely-existant judgment.
"J-j-aj-jang s-sorry! No hit, no h-hit..." She cowered and covered her head, letting out a garbled, paniced tone. "Jang will be nice for an-nah but no hit... p-please!..."