"Fucking bastard!" A man with a large scar pointed his gun at Lucian's head. "I'll fucking kill you!"
"It's useless." Lucian sighed, his voice filled with exhaustion rather than fear. His emerald eyes fixed calmly on the man with the scar, as if the barrel of the gun at his head was nothing more than an inconvenience.
The man's hand trembled slightly. For some reason, Lucian's calmness and unbothered manners made him hesitate, but he masked his fear with rage. "You think I won't pull this fucking trigger?"
Lucian let go of the man's hand and turned to face the other. He took a step forward, the gun now inches from his forehead. "Go ahead," he said, his tone firm. "But if you do, you better hope you find another source of water."
While Lucian was dealing with a bunch of degenerate men, Medeia was frozen in place. The word 'woman' repeated over and over in her mind, like a prayer.
