Demon Hunter's expression remained indifferent as he pulled the trigger.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—
The gunshots rang out in rapid succession, a dozen in total. Twelve bullets flew through the air.
Charles stood motionless, a silhouette of his head appearing on the wall behind him, made entirely of bullet holes.
"Uh…"
Demon Hunter casually blew away the rising black smoke from the barrel and said nonchalantly:
"While they're undoubtedly stylish, these guns have a fatal flaw, which I'm sure you've noticed by now."
Charles exclaimed in shock, "Human outline?"
Demon Hunter sneered, "Human outline? That's a colorful way to put it. To be precise, these guns are cursed. No matter from what angle you shoot, your bullets will never hit their mark. So…"
He holstered his guns, adding, "Other than using them to show off, they're only good for showing off."
"…"
"…"
