The foreign dwarf silently cursed his own carelessness.
He originally thought victory was assured, so he made no preparations.
He enjoyed the feeling of being above ordinary people, savoring the victim's shock, fear, and pleading before death.
Shouldn't have acted so cocky, it backfired.
The foreign dwarf's mind raced.
His current advantage was that the opponents didn't know his skills, nor the abilities of his mutated bald eagle; there was an information gap.
As long as he could stabilize the situation and make them drop their guard, he had the capability to turn the tables!
The foreign dwarf grinned awkwardly and raised his hands:
"Don't get excited."
Various types of firearms simultaneously spewed tongues of fire.
Deafening, as if countless thunderbolts exploded in the large bedroom of the small villa.
The foreign dwarf was dumbfounded; his only thought before dying was: Would they shoot so decisively?
