Truth and falsehood, falsehood and truth.
The Werewolf could not tell whether those bullets were real or fake. What was especially disgusting was that they came with innate armor-piercing properties—and poison.
After several bullets had missed him just now, he had caught the scent of poison.
Ordinary people might not have noticed such a smell, but he could easily detect unusual scents in the air.
Unfortunately, Haifeili had hidden herself too well, leaving behind not the slightest scent. He could only passively take the beating now, without even a chance to strike back.
Pfft!
While thinking, the Werewolf simply dodged at random. But such randomness was no different from gambling, and without question, he lost the bet.
A bullet struck his shoulder, passing straight through his body and spraying a string of blood blossoms.
The poison immediately took effect.
In the spectator stands, many people sighed helplessly at the sight.
This was the gap between poor players and rich players. Ordinary versions of these holographic projectors were not particularly expensive, but Haifeili was clearly using the most top-tier version—perhaps even an enhanced top-tier version. Their projection range exceeded three thousand meters, and she had deployed more than ten of them at once.
That was simply too extravagant.
If they had not been watching from outside, the overwhelming majority of spectators would likewise have had no way to break free once trapped in such a holographic matrix.
"This young man's combat power isn't weak. Unfortunately, he ran into Haifeili." Countless players sighed deeply. No matter how many times they watched a match where strength was defeated by money, they could not help feeling sympathy.
Yet the Werewolf did not give up. He quickly stopped the bleeding, then leaped onto a tree and pressed his back against its trunk.
But this scene