Three Birds, One Stone

Even with their real-life experiences and their more than advanced training, Feng Xuan and Wuming faced their inevitable death. There were about fifty other people they were fighting against and they could not win with paintball guns alone.

"I take it that guns are not our strong suits," said Wuming as they entered the room where they were getting ready about an hour ago.

"Blades are much fun, right?" Feng Xuan seconded.

Both of their clothes and shoes were covered and splattered with paint. It made the air she breathed sharp, making her a little dizzy. She dropped all the guns that they used on the table and took off her shoes.

"Did it help?" Wuming asked, pulling the goggles off his face. "Has your urges finally calm down?"