Hearing the reprimand, the young man showed not the slightest hint of panic. Instead, he stuck out his tongue and licked his lips like a venomous snake ready to strike.
When the "citizen" remained where he was, showing no sign of moving, the official announcing the martial law grew angry and raised his voice. "Are you deaf? Get home, now."
Faced with the sudden incident, the armored vehicle stopped. Two fully armed soldiers climbed out and headed toward the young man by the building.
Under normal circumstances, they might have been willing to let something slide. But since the City Society had declared martial law, they had no qualms about arresting a few troublemakers.
One soldier pointed his pitch-black gun barrel at the young man and cursed. "If you don't want to go home, then you can come with us."
The other soldier reached for the young man's collar, trying to yank him over.
But just then,
the young man suddenly moved.
A bloody arrow shot from his mouth, punching a hole through the soldier's throat on the spot.
"Watch out! He's a Deathmatch fighter!"
Startled, the soldier aiming his gun at the young man instinctively pulled the trigger.
Rat-a-tat-tat~
Bullets poured out.
He kept his finger on the trigger, emptying the magazine in one go.
Unfortunately, the result was disappointing.
Every bullet he fired was blocked by a dark-red shield that appeared in front of the young man.
The dark-red shield turned into a puddle of blood and splattered onto the ground. Stepping over the blood at his feet, the young man clicked his tongue in admiration. "I didn't know Mechanical Arts could be this powerful."
The soldier was startled but kept his composure. He bent down and quickly replaced the magazine, but it took time.
The young man