Imprisoning Voldemort. "What... what do you mean?" Quirrell's voice trembled with a hint of fear.
"Nothing. I just wanted to play a game with you."
Brook took out a Degtyaryov machine gun modified by the twins.
"I hope you can hold out a little longer."
Although the twins' abilities were still limited, they could at least modify a magazine.
A magazine that could originally hold only 100 rounds had now been turned into a "giant" capable of holding 700.
Greatly increasing Dapanji's endurance.
Brook pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Dapanji immediately began to chatter.
Flames burst from the muzzle as bullets, like a torrential downpour, shrieked through the air and engulfed Quirrell.
Quirrell hurriedly shouted, "Iron Armor Curse!"
An invisible shield instantly appeared before him.
He had just been about to counterattack.
But although the Iron Armor Curse could withstand the impact of bullets, it shattered after blocking only ten rounds.
His eyes widened in terror, and he hastily cast another Iron Armor Curse, barely avoiding being hit.
He dared not linger any longer. He began running swiftly while desperately flinging out Iron Armor Curses as though they cost nothing.
Before Brook had even emptied one magazine, another Dapanji appeared in his other hand.
When poor, use tactical maneuvers; when rich, blanket them with firepower.
Brook carried out that saying to perfection.
Quirrell was suppressed so thoroughly that he had no chance to fight back and could only dodge the bullets in humiliation.
"Brook, stop! Let's talk, let's talk!"
Brook paid no attention to his shouts.
Talk my ass!
Didn't villains die from talking too much?
From the moment Quirrell poisoned him.
Quirrell had already been a dead man.
What was there to say to a dead man?
He wanted to see whether Quirrell could last until he had fired