The bullet arrived in an instant.
Meng Chao staggered.
It was as though his foot had slipped into an air pocket in the mud. He lost his balance and tilted to the left.
The bullet grazed his waist.
He immediately felt a searing pain at his waist, as though a venomous snake spewing flames had torn away a huge chunk of flesh.
The venom was like magma, advancing through his blood vessels and nerves toward his internal organs.
Meng Chao felt as though his heart were an engine that had been blown apart, pounding uncontrollably.
The activity of his lung cells was severely restricted as well.
It was as though someone had stuffed two lumps of inexhaustible explosives into his lungs, detonating them with every breath.
It seemed this bullet had been coated with some new type of neurotoxin. Even without striking a vital point, it could rob most targets of more than ninety percent of their mobility.
Meng Chao was naturally not among "most targets."
Before the warhead touched his flesh, he had already roughly locked onto the point of contact through his radar-like body hair and erected an impregnable wall of Spiritual Energy around the flesh at his waist.
At the same time, Meng Chao's muscles contracted violently, trying to clamp down on the warhead.
The Turan Orcs would never fire sniper bullets.
That was crucial evidence.
Unexpectedly, what he had suffered was clearly not a penetrating wound. Only a teacup-sized hole had exploded open behind him, while the front was completely unscathed.
Yet he could not find any trace of the warhead inside his body.
"The other side used some special crystal-processing technique to meticulously polish a custom warhead. After entering the target's body and achieving its destructive effect, it could actually decompose on its own, vanishing