Blocks kitchen knives

He could see them all, drawing on the anger and the pain that had been
festering beneath the surface for those long months. They desperately
needed someone to blame, someone who was here and real and in front of
them, not a ghost like Hugh Darrow, his body crushed beneath thousands of
tons of steel in the Arctic Ocean. They wanted a scapegoat, and somebody
had decided it was going to be him.

Jensen lost focus for a moment as that thought echoed through his head,
and it was enough for someone behind him in the crowd to shove him
forward, spitting and jeering. He stumbled, and the tattooed man hurtled
toward him, snarling. He had kitchen knives in both hands.

Reflexively, Jensen cocked back his cyberlimb and triggered the nerve
impulse that would have deployed the blunt-tipped nanoblades concealed
beneath the forearm – but there was nothing but a hollow click and he
recalled too late that the augmentations had been disengaged. Instead, he
went into a clumsy block that set the knives cutting across the
polycarbonate shell of his arm.

Jensen turned the inelegant move into a counterattack, dropping low and
throwing a punch into the tattooed man’s gut. He took it with a grunt but
little else, the shear-thickening gel in the dermal armor absorbing most of
the force of impact

[...]

The knives fell toward the exposed flesh of Jensen’s throat, but his
attacker was inexpert with them and held the makeshift weapons too close
together. Jensen’s free hand snapped up and grabbed the closest blade,
hearing the metal crunch against the surface of his cyberarm’s synthetic
palm. He pulled the tattooed man toward him, forcing him to overbalance.

- Deus Ex: Black Light, Chapter 2 pg. 29