Gan Ning whooped with grim laughter at the way the flying pair worked. Couldn't have happened to a nicer ghost. Getting a good grip on his weapons, he took off after them, taking advantage of the moment to do some up-the-wall running himself, only up the knee and toward Jones' chest. He wasn't going to get in close enough, he knew it, so as he flung himself in a great leap as high as he could go, he jammed the Sea Master into sickly greenish flesh all the way to the hilt. As he did, he spooled out the chain on his other arm and began to whirl the sickle at the end of it, building momentum and then lashing out with it to strike somewhere - anywhere. Wherever it landed, it would at least be something.