When he clipped it, forthwith, the arrow produced an illusory thin click in his ears. Drawing his pointer above the arrow, Sungho then secured the bottom between his two fingers.
And without delay to the invisible instructions that the body was recalling, he brought his arms together, pulling the bowstring all the way back. He stretched it and hit a certain arrow point.
Now, this was the challenge. How would he be able to knock out a target if his current vision was vague, in a desperate haze? More importantly, would it really be possible? Did Hyeon Ju proceed to learn how to use a bow in her childhood? After all, the memory Sungho saw that time was merely a sneak peek.
He released a deep sigh. The bow was still in his possession, so was the fabricated arrow to his head loaded on the weapon. Although his mind was telling him it might be impossible to execute, doubting with his views, the body he was possessing was yelling the opposite of his thoughts.