Bang! Bang! Bang!
The enemies around him had already opened fire, and their overwhelming firepower kept forcing Fang Cheng backward.
He raised both Vulcan Gatlings and pulled the triggers under the enemies' horrified gazes.
"Get down!"
One armed man shouted, and all the enemies nearby ducked behind cover or dropped flat on the ground.
Click!
The triggers were pulled, but the two Gatlings didn't so much as twitch. They couldn't even fart out a single shot.
The atmosphere froze for a moment.
Fang Cheng looked disappointed. Some component must have malfunctioned. As expected, cramming at the last minute wasn't enough. He'd have to study them properly when he got back.
"Ha! He's out of ammo!"
The armed man who'd first shouted for everyone to get down cried out excitedly. "We could drown him in spit if we all took turns!"
Fang Cheng hated people like that—show-offs with no regard for hygiene. He aimed both Gatlings at him, and countless steel needles of every size sprayed from the barrels.
A part might have malfunctioned, but that didn't mean he couldn't shoot.
The real Vulcan Gatling might not have produced that deafening roar, but it was every bit as powerful.
The steel needles formed two crimson torrents. The man who'd been about to spit on the ground was turned into a sieve in an instant.
The other armed men had only just emerged from cover when the overwhelming barrage swept over them. They scattered, clutching their heads.
Fang Cheng pushed forward quickly, wielding a Gatling in each hand.
In the sky, the two Monkey-Version Iron Men began unleashing their terrifying power, turning into reapers of life as they sprayed gunfire in every direction.
These were top-tier machines built purely for combat. Even as training models, they were no match for little handguns