Waylon Lewis sat quietly, his voice neither hurried nor slow, yet it chillingly resembled that of a demon.
Luna Williams twisted her neck in a panic, her voice trembling as she asked, "What... what injuries did she sustain?"
"Tell her."
Before Luna Williams could figure it out, Waylon Lewis raised his hand, his slender fingers slightly hooked.
Thomas Hughes swiftly attached a silencer to the gun, raised it, and aimed the dark muzzle at Luna Williams.
Luna Williams's eyes widened, a surge of sheer terror boiling over.
"No… don't…"
"Bang bang." Two muffled shots, giving her no chance to resist.
Both shots hit the same spot on her shoulder.
"Ah..." Luna Williams screamed in agony, clutching her bleeding shoulder, every nerve in her body taut and trembling.
"Quiet! Scream again, and we continue."
Waylon Lewis spoke again, his eyes coldly observing the scene.
Luna Williams bit her lip hard, her pale face covered in cold sweat.
"Luna! Luna..."
