CHAPTER 79
"Is—Is he dea—?" Chloe's voice trailed off, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and disbelief.
"... You know. That—That doesn't hurt at all,"
Bruce could be heard groaning, his voice a raspy, defiant rumble that seemed to vibrate from the very earth.
Slowly, agonizingly, he began pushing his mangled frame upward.
Within a few agonizing seconds, he was somehow standing upright.
But his condition was beyond critical at this point.
One hand and one leg were completely gone, obliterated by the force of that singular, devastating punch.
From his right shoulder downwards, there was nothing but a gaping, hollow void, leaving him with only the left half of his torso and limbs.
Crimson blood was gushing out like a rhythmic fountain, painting the dirt beneath him.
But even through this absolute carnage, the werewolf remained standing, balancing precariously on his remaining foot.
