Saint seemed to hesitate before accepting the revolver, but then gave Sunny a reluctant nod. She checked the gun with precise and confident movements, making sure that it was loaded, then hid it in the pocket of her trench coat.
It was hard to tell if she felt safer with a weapon since her expression was almost always calm and placid, but Sunny hoped that she did.
Because he himself felt troubled.
Being mundane was already bad enough, but he was at least confident in his ability to overpower most enemies in a brawl. Now that firearms entered the picture, though, Sunny had to face his own mortality.
One bullet was enough to end his life.
'How… nostalgic.'
He was reminded of his youth in the outskirts of NQSC, where armed thugs had been like deities who wielded power over life and death at their fingertips. It was such a long time since Sunny had felt threatened by guns that he was having trouble adjusting to this new old reality.
