My New Eyes Can See Through Clothes

Jack's heart was still racing as the sound of car engines filled the air. The fifteen cars that had approached were now surrounding him and the little girl he had just saved. Their dark silhouettes loomed in the evening light, the headlights casting long shadows across the road.

The vehicles were all identical—sleek, black sedans with tinted windows. The kind used by people with power and authority. Jack tightened his grip around the little girl.

One by one, the cars came to a halt, their engines cutting off almost in unison. The sudden silence was deafening, filled only with the echo of Jack's ragged breaths and the distant hum of the wind. His senses were on high alert, his muscles tensing as he waited to see what would happen next.

The doors of the cars swung open, and men in black suits stepped out. Their movements were precise and coordinated, like soldiers executing a well-practiced maneuver. Each of them was tall, imposing, and carried an air of professionalism that made it clear they weren't just ordinary bodyguards. Jack counted at least a dozen of them.

They spread out, forming a tight circle around Jack and the little girl. He could see their eyes on him, their gazes sharp and assessing. It was a standoff, and Jack had no idea what to do. He had never been in a situation like this before. Who were these people? Why were they here?

But before he could even begin to piece it together, one car—different from the others—caught his attention. It was a deep crimson red, its paint gleaming under the fading sunlight. The driver's door opened, and a woman stepped out.

Jack's breath hitched as he looked at her, his vision shifting strangely. He wasn't just seeing her as she appeared—he was seeing through her.

She had long, chestnut-brown hair that cascaded down her back in soft waves, catching the light with a subtle sheen. It framed her face beautifully, accentuating her high cheekbones and delicate features. Her eyes were a striking shade of hazel, sharp and intelligent, with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

But what drew Jack's gaze wasn't just her face. It was her figure—slender, almost ethereal in its perfection. Her breasts were full, the curves of her body accentuated by the way her black shirt clung to her form. A white coat hung loosely over her shoulders, and her black pants hugged her long, shapely legs.

For a moment, Jack felt a strange heat rise in him, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. His gaze drifted lower, and he realized, with a jolt, that he could see through her clothes. It wasn't like an X-ray or anything of that sort. It was just a sense—an awareness of what lay beneath.

She was wearing black underwear—a lacy bra that cupped her breasts and matching panties that fit snugly against her skin.

Jack's face flushed, a mix of confusion and embarrassment swirling through him. What was happening? Why was he seeing this? He tried to shake off the thought, tried to push it away, but it lingered, making his pulse quicken.

The woman stepped forward, her gaze locked onto Jack's. He could see her frown slightly, as if she were assessing him, trying to decide what to make of him. She walked with a fluid grace, each step deliberate and measured.

Then, without warning, the little girl in Jack's arms squirmed free. She slipped from his grasp and ran toward the woman, her tiny feet pattering against the asphalt.

"Mommy!" the girl cried, her voice high and clear in the stillness.

The woman's expression changed in an instant. Her stern gaze softened, melting into one of relief and overwhelming concern. She dropped to her knees, arms outstretched, as the girl flung herself into her embrace.

"Ellie!" the woman breathed, pulling the girl close. "Ellie, thank God. Where were you? What were you thinking? I was so worried—"

The little girl, Ellie, sniffled, looking up at her mother with tear-filled eyes. "I… I ran away," she whispered, her voice trembling with guilt. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I… I was bad. I won't run again. I promise."

The woman's hands trembled as she cupped Ellie's face, brushing away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. "No, Ellie, no… You're not bad. Just don't ever do that again. Do you hear me? Don't ever run away like that again."

Ellie nodded quickly, burying her face against her mother's shoulder. "I won't. I won't, Mommy. I promise."

The woman hugged her tightly, her eyes closing as if she were holding onto something infinitely precious.

After a few moments, Ellie pulled back slightly, turning her head to look at Jack. "Mommy, this big brother saved me," she said earnestly, pointing at Jack with a tiny finger. "He… he ran so fast and pulled me away from the car. He saved me."

The woman's gaze shifted, her eyes widening as she looked at Jack. Her gaze dropped lower, and a look of shock flashed across her face.

"You…" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "Your eyes…"

Jack blinked, his confusion deepening. His eyes? What was wrong with his eyes? Then he remember that he didn't have eyes at all.

The woman took a hesitant step forward, her hand reaching out as if to touch him but stopping just short. "How… how do you have green eyes?" she asked, her voice trembling. "And… and why is there so much blood?"

Green Eyes? Blood?

Jack reached up instinctively, his fingers brushing against his face. He felt wetness there—warm and sticky. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in crimson. Blood was seeping from eyes, and at this time he also felt that his sockets weren't empty but had eyes.