The only law you've broken is the law of nature by returning from the dead and even that you're sure was just a strange hallucination caused by swallowing too much unfiltered water. You're a mess and soaking wet so it's reasonable the guard wants to check on your well being but he probably speaks whatever language is being spoken around you, a language you don't speak, and you rather not deal with communication difficulties so you stare at the ground as you make your way through the crowd. He's faster, however, and grabs your elbow before you can disappear. You turn to him with a confused face and he asks you a question. Why are you wet? Who are you? Where are you going? What's the average velocity for a coconut laden swallow? You have no idea what he said so you shrug and shake your head. The guard asks again, louder this time.

"I don't understand," you confess. The guard frowns.

"'Merican," he growls. You nod, wondering what your country has done to this place to make him growl the word in such a tone. That nod was all the confirmation he needed. You don't even see the knife he pulls from his belt and plunges into your belly. It's much more painful than drowning but quicker too. You black out before you hit the gound.

Next time claim to be Canadian