Story-Chat mit Spoiler
A gang of arms dealers scrambled to load crates into a van. One stepped away, scanning the shadows—too late.
A boot connected with his jaw, sending him crashing into a pile of ammo. The others spun around just as a purple blur landed between them, bo staff already swinging.
“Who the hell—?”
She smirked beneath the cowl. “Spoiler alert: you’re all going down.”
A couple seconds later, the van tires were slashed, their weapons disabled, and the last thug cuffed with zip-ties.
