If someone were to step into the living room right now, they would see the bright flash of a blade, followed by the sound of something thudding against the floor. A closer examination would reveal that it was a severed arm holding a handgun with a finger tightly wrapped around the trigger, which would never get to squeeze a trigger ever again.
Everyone in the room instantly looked at the person standing next to Rock. It was Helen, wearing a cold smile on her face and flicking the blood off the blade of her weapon—a white blade that looked so thin and flimsy it was incredible it could cut anything without bending at all.
“Why did you have to point a gun at my boss? This could’ve been so much cleaner.” Helen sighed in disappointment while shaking her head a little.
As if on cue, everyone’
