Normally, he would have a silly, ingratiating smile plastered on his face, but now, there was no hiding his rage.
He glared at Sylas with a furrowed brow, his face a picture of fury.
"What do you think you're doing, Brother?!"
Rocco stood up while holding Laxus in his arms and stomping his feet in anger.
If his instincts weren't wrong, that sound from earlier had definitely been the sound of a gunshot.
And Sylas, of all people, had pointed the gun at his poor, helpless puppy and fired it—whether as a threat or for some other reason, it didn't matter!
Sylas, seeing Rocco's anger, looked momentarily confused, his brow furrowing.
Was he trying to cover up with that expression?
Rocco wasn't going to let him off that easily.
"I can't forgive you! Even if you are my brother, I absolutely can't forgive you for that!"
"What are you talking about... That was—"
