There was an old saying.
When you held a hammer, everything looked like a nail.
Right now, the talisman gun in Zheng Qing's hand was like a "hammer," while this Sandbox Small World was his construction site. As far as the eye can see, everything looked like a nail to him—the fences by the street, the gargoyles atop the walls, the bats beneath the eaves, and those flamboyantly colored crows descending from the sky. Every target resembled a nail sticking out of a wooden board, waiting for him to hammer it flat one by one.
But he could not act rashly.
Before they discovered the "support point" of this Sandbox Small World, any reckless attack would only strike empty air, like punching the wind. It would have no beneficial effect on the situation. On the contrary, blind attacks might be exploited by the other side's twisted rules, leaving them injured instead.
Thus, from the very beginning, the three-person team had settled on a basic strategy: hold their ground and counterattack.
No matter how the multicolored crows on the scaffolding darted provocatively around them, chattering, mocking, and raining down bombardments from every angle, they ignored them and refused to counterattack lightly. They miserly conserved every shred of Magic Power, maintaining the protective effect of Stone Firmament at the bare minimum.
A pale yellow phantom of a massive boulder floated in midair, shrouding the three young people. Whenever it shattered, a new boulder emerged again, like a reef by the sea standing firm amid howling winds and crashing waves.
Of course, simply taking hits passively was not the right strategy either.
Zheng Qing contributed all his ordinary talisman bullets, then handed the Beretta Double Barrel, which had been hidden at the bottom of his case and unused for a long time, to