The dust cleared.
Under Su Ming'an's watchful gaze, the figure in the dust gradually climbed up.
Lin Guang staggered to his feet, standing amidst a swath of machinery crushed into metallic discs, his body smeared with blood, staring at Su Ming'an in disbelief.
Blood "drip-dropped" down his arm, landing on the ground, and his bones were bent unnaturally; Lin Guang's hand was broken.
"Lewis, I just wanted to be your friend," he said. "Why do you always hate me the moment we meet?"
Su Ming'an didn't bother with small talk. The wheelchair appeared behind him, and he leaped backward onto it, stepping on the seat with the Glory of the Hunt shotgun appearing in his hands.
This modified Purple Grade shotgun glowed with an extremely dazzling light, and he aimed it at Lin Guang, who had just stood up. The barrel gathered a blue-purple glow, followed by a thunderous roar!
…
