Scrimmage

A bronze bullet was thrown in the air casually, and a fixed star bolted pass the floating island at this moment. A flash of light passed across the buildings on the street and shone on the spinning metal bullet, reflecting the light onto Han Xiao's handsome face just centimeters away like an arc mirror. The bullet spun a few rounds and reached the peak point, then fell slowly. At this moment, a droplet of bright red blood splashed this way, like a shot from a precise sniper; it hit the dropping bullet.

Pa!

With fingers closed, the bullet was caught. Han Xiao opened his hand, and the bullet was lying there quietly in the middle of the black mechanical suit glove, painting a warm tint of red onto the cold metal.