Within the official residence compound, the most elite guard unit was Zhang Yang's own personal force.
His King Soldiers.
"Come here," Zhang Yang said, beckoning to one of them.
The King Soldier immediately obeyed, standing straight before Zhang Yang as he awaited orders and deployment.
Zhang Yang's gaze lingered on the assault rifle the King Soldier carried and the handgun at his waist. His expression showed a trace of hesitation.
Should he test his current physical strength with an assault rifle?
No. Better not get overconfident.
He would try the handgun first.
"Give me the pistol." Zhang Yang held out his hand.
Without the slightest hesitation, the King Soldier removed the handgun from his waist and handed it to Zhang Yang.
Zhang Yang raised the pistol and chambered a round.
Then... he aimed it at his own arm...
He was not testing this blindly. He had a rough sense of his current physical strength: it was very strong, far beyond the toughness of his previous body.
He should have no problem taking a handgun bullet head-on at close range.
Zhang Yang drew a deep breath.
He clenched his left fist.
The skin of his forearm, originally crystalline as jade, instantly tightened with a creaking sound. The muscle fibers beneath bulged violently, like steel bars twisted into thick cords.
"Now."
Zhang Yang pulled the trigger without hesitation.
With his extreme dynamic vision and neural reflexes, he could clearly see the bullet leave the barrel, spinning through the air as though it sent ripples through the atmosphere.
Then it tore through layer after layer of air before finally striking his forearm.
Bang!
Zhang Yang's forearm trembled slightly.
With a clang, the shell casing fell to the ground.
Under the moonlight, he slowly raised his forearm.
The muscles that had just swelled receded