Karl instinctively raised his hands in surprise, both eyebrows shooting up like they were trying to escape his forehead. "Whoa, whoa, easy! I didn't touch anyone, I swear!"
Meanwhile, Mira stepped forward confidently, her posture firm and her gaze sharp—like a strict teacher who just caught a student cheating on an exam. She didn't hesitate for a second, even with the shotgun barrel pointed directly at her chest.
"Are you crazy?! Don't come any closer, this gun—" the femboy didn't even get to finish the sentence before Mira, in one swift move, grabbed the barrel of the shotgun.
"Excuse me," she said coldly.
With surprising strength, she yanked the weapon from the femboy's hands, twisted it, and dropped the slim figure with a single elbow strike to the neck. The femboy collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, unconscious, only letting out a soft gasp.
Karl stood stunned. "Mira, seriously… you're one badass MILF. Weren't you afraid of getting shot?"
