When the gun barrel was shoved into the woman's mouth, her eyes widened in terror, her nostrils flared slightly, and she emitted a low, muffled plea. It wasn't an act; she was genuinely afraid.
Bruce turned his head to look at her, as if observing a mutated creature on the brink of death. His gaze was indifferent, but his hand slowly withdrew the gun, taking a half-step back.
“Doesn't it hurt?” he raised an eyebrow.
The woman shook her head hurriedly.
Bruce thoughtfully pinched her arm, then her thigh. The texture was unusually elastic, the bones almost imperceptibly hard, the joints as flexible as if they had no bones. It was like an unfinished product from a bioengineering laboratory. To put it bluntly, she resembled a soft-bodied creature encased in human skin.
As soon as he moved
