Qian Cangyi was completely focused; he had already mapped out his route to the exit in his mind.
The intersecting steps became a new battlefield.
A dozen seconds later, the direct distance between Qian Cangyi and the Prophet was less than twenty meters, the steps between them pieced together into a complex maze.
Gunshots rang out.
Bullets whirled toward their target, halving their journey before suddenly descending, then veering right, reaching beyond the boundary of the steps and blending into the blue-purple light.
Still no good.
Qian Cangyi took a step forward and turned to ascend another flight of steps.
The new steps were perpendicular to the original ones, and as Qian Cangyi's feet landed on the new steps, his entire body became horizontal, as if he were standing on a wall.
For him, there was no difference from before, as if standing on the ground.
On the other side, the Prophet stepped onto the new steps.