"Xu Fan, you dare to snatch a police officer's service pistol? Do you not realize how serious this crime is?" Qin Yijie's expression turned to shock as he bellowed.
After speaking, the five police officers behind him all drew their pistols and aimed at Xu Fan.
Xu Fan, however, was completely indifferent to the four guns pointed at him. He looked at the few officers with a calm demeanor, his expression proud and detached, mocking as if he were looking down on them from a higher position.
"You say I snatched a police officer's gun? You have wronged me. Where is the gun? I don't see it."
As Xu Fan spoke, he watched the officers' faces turn to horrified disbelief, their gazes fixated on the handgun in his hand.
The handgun—was rapidly melting. The barrel glowed red hot, softened from the heat and bent towards the ground.
