The purple elder was as stunned as Akira and Kanna were, to see the object in Rumia's hand. Because even though it was shoddily crafted, out of wood and banana leaves rather than raw steel, there was no mistaking the design of a small-arms, automatic killing machine; designed for the express purpose of drilling holes through anyone and anything that stands in the wielder's path.
The elder's eyes widened in equal parts fear and incredulity as he stared down the barrel pointed at him until they abruptly honed on Rumia's determined face in a snarl of revulsion.
"So, we meet again," he disdainfully said to her, seething with resentment.
"Aww. You're still bitter, I see," Rumia replied, pointing it sideways at him in one hand. "This here is called the [BPRS], and you're gonna have the great privilege of being its first human test subject if you keep talking shit."
Akira gawked at her back. "You have a fucking gun?!"
