"I'm not important. What's important is if you don't obey and continue to pull the trigger with your finger, I'll definitely blow your head off first," Ye Tian lifted his right hand from the steering wheel, shaking it in the air, "There's a meter distance between the backseat and me, your gun is sixty centimeters long, and you've placed it horizontally on your lap. From lifting the gun to aiming, there's a 270-degree arc angle to adjust. I assure you, I'll be faster!"
As soon as his words fell, White Beard only felt darkness before his eyes before losing consciousness.
Ye Tian took the hunting rifle, which had been raised halfway, from his hand, muttering under his breath, "I told you I'd be quicker, why couldn't you be good."
