Bulletproof vest, ammunition pouch.
Zhang Yang carefully checked everything, then took a gun as well.
Chris did the same beside him. With two clicks, she chambered the rounds.
Hogni was simply left off to the side.
He glanced around, slowly shifted position, and reached for a gun resting against the wall.
"Turn around!"
He raised the gun in his hand. The weakness and fear that had filled his eyes from beginning to end vanished completely, leaving only cruelty.
"You'd better not try to fire." Zhang Yang turned around and looked nonchalantly at the gun pointed at him.
To him, every movement Hogni made was as slow as an ant.
He could predict Hogni's movements from every contraction of the brachioradialis, flexors, and extensors in his forearm. He could tell where Hogni was looking from every shift of his eyeballs.
So-called bullet-dodging was nothing more than the result of ultimate neural reflexes, ultimate observation, and ultimate control over every muscle and every muscle fiber in the human body.
Villains died from talking too much.
Hogni did not waste a single word. Without a thought or any warning, he pulled the trigger.
"Zhang..." Chris's eyes widened, and nothing but terror remained in them.
Yet everything around them seemed to slow down.
In Zhang Yang's eyes, the slowly shifting muzzle, Hogni's wide-open eyes, his taut forearm, the tendons and ligaments pulling his finger down on the trigger—
everything was crystal clear.
Slow. Far too slow!
His muscles and bones tensed, and in the next instant, his entire body burst forward in an afterimage.
Bang!
The air exploded.
The muzzle, just about to fire, suddenly jerked upward. Then the entire gun shattered into pieces, its components spraying in every direction.
"I told you not to fire." Zhang Yang rubbed his palm as warped parts