Shock, seriousness, disbelief.
Just a second ago, Flossie Wright's fist had brutally struck the fishmonger aunt in the abdomen, so quickly that the eye could hardly capture, the moment she withdrew her hand, the fishmonger aunt let out a chilling scream, falling backward while clutching her stomach. A look of surprise flashed in her eyes at the last moment, as if she hadn't expected it at all.
Everyone was stunned.
No one expected that a soldier would attack a civilian.
The fishmonger uncle saw his wife being bullied and didn't care about Flossie's face. But as he was about to rush at Flossie with clenched fists, he ran into a pair of bone-chilling eyes, immobilizing him on the spot, his legs trembling.
Flossie's body was emanating an aura of killing.
Standing there like the Grim Reaper, her cold eyes were void of any emotion. Sharp, cold, dangerous. Revealing herself in the raw, she was as cold and as dangerous as extreme could be.