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墨書 Inktalez
"How... how is this possible?"
The few people in the pit were so astonished that they couldn't even speak. They discovered that Lu Xiaoran's body was suspended in mid-air.
Upon closer inspection, they noticed that a wooden bridge had appeared beneath Lu Xiaoran's feet, seemingly out of nowhere. As he continued to step forward, the bridge extended further ahead.
Before they could comprehend what was happening, Lu Xiaoran suddenly stopped on the bridge. He raised both hands, and a gun materialized in his empty palms.
Unlike the handguns he had used before, this time Lu Xiaoran had conjured a Submachine Gun. Knowing that his marksmanship still needed improvement, he decided to forgo the handgun in favor of this weapon, which required less precise aiming.
With the Submachine Gun, all he had to do was hold down the trigger to unleash a continuous barrage of bullets. A sweeping spray toward his target would yield significant damage.
Lu Xiaoran gripped the gun with his left hand and pressed the trigger, aiming at the fleeing individuals outside the pit.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The bullets erupted from the gun like a crimson tongue of fire, quickly taking down those who were slower to escape.
Once he emptied the magazine, Lu Xiaoran casually conjured a new one. After reloading, he turned the gun toward the large pit below the wooden bridge.
In an instant, a torrential downpour of bullets rained into the pit. Those huddled in the corners had nowhere to hide, and soon the air was filled with heart-wrenching cries of despair.
After emptying this magazine as well, Lu Xiaoran nonchalantly shook his hand and returned to his safe house.
Meanwhile, to the north of the open area, Wang Fugui was pacing in front of his tent when he suddenly saw several young men stumbling back toward him.
He recognized them as those he had sent to dig traps at the safe house.
Wang Fugui approached them with a look of surprise and asked, "What happened to you?"
Breathless from their frantic escape, the young men gasped for air, their eyes filled with fear.
One of them stammered, "That... that person has a Submachine Gun! Several of us were shot dead by him."
Wang Fugui was taken aback; he had thought Lu Xiaoran only possessed that previous handgun. He never expected that he also had a Submachine Gun hidden away.
He was about to say something when he noticed the young man trembling again, his voice shaking: "I... I feel like that person can use sorcery. When I was running, I saw a wooden bridge appear out of nowhere beneath his feet. And that submachine gun of his, it just materialized in his hands."
Wang Fugui's eyes widened in shock as he murmured, "How... is that possible?"
Although the handgun earlier had also been replicated by Lu Xiaoran using his ability, the distance had been too great for anyone to see the process of how he copied the gun. Moreover, since the handgun was small, even if someone had seen it, they might have thought he had hidden it somewhere and pulled it out unexpectedly.
However, this time, both the wooden bridge and the submachine gun that Lu Xiaoran replicated were quite large. Anyone who witnessed it could not possibly overlook the fact that these items had appeared out of thin air.
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