This was the signal. He could not keep passively taking hits. Mu gritted his teeth and, during the brief lull in the enemy's gunfire, sprang through the crack in the door.
His body arced through the air as the pistol in his hand spat fire, laying down suppressive fire. He landed and rolled, firing as he swiftly crossed the open center of the room. Under the cover of that rapid series of shots, he successfully dove behind a set of old sofas on the right side of the room.
They were the only large cover in the room. Hidden in the sofa's shadow, he panted heavily, adjusted his grip on the gun, then abruptly leaned out from the other side of the sofa, trying to catch sight of Rau Le Creuset.
However, that man seemed to have foreseen his movement.
The instant before Mu poked his head out, Rau Le Creuset's bullet had already arrived. It was not aim—it was prediction.
Though Mu tried desperately to evade it, the bullet still grazed his already wounded right shoulder. A searing pain instantly spread through his body, nearly making him drop his pistol.
"Ugh...!"
A muffled groan of pain squeezed from his throat. He had no choice but to duck back behind the sofa, his body twitching slightly from the pain.
"Mr. Mu!"
Jiliang, who had been hiding outside the room and peering inside, saw Mu get shot and collapse. The string called reason snapped in an instant. Without even considering whether there might be an ambush inside, she rushed headlong into the danger-filled room.
Her slender figure passed through the dim light as she stumbled and crawled toward Mu, who was crouched in agony, clutching his right shoulder and groaning. She did not look at the enemy. Instead, she immediately reached