Debris and dust filled the air.
A spray of fresh blood flew out.
Xie Guang grunted, clutching his shoulder as his figure retreated as fast as lightning.
Once he was aside, he quickly pulled a golden handgun from a drawer.
Peering cautiously through the crack, he saw a masked figure standing in the doorway like a descended Demon God, striking fear into his heart.
The man lifted his foot and kicked forward violently.
"BOOM!"
The broken security door shuddered violently. The entire metal frame caved inward before flying into the room and slamming hard against the living room wall.
The next moment.
The instant the doorway was clear, Xie Guang pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Secret Martial Artists generally had immense confidence in their own physiques and disdained the use of firearms.
But he had long since lost the competitive spirit of his youth.
'The heart of a Martial Artist? Who cares. Survival is what matters most.'
