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As soon as Zhang Xian saw the people rushing forward with their guns, shooting without any hesitation or question, he was a little annoyed. He embraced Duan Hong and hid around the corner.

"Ah..."

A scream echoed in the air. A lackey had not retreated to the corner in time, ending up with a bullet in his thigh.

Observing the situation, another lackey quickly pulled him over.

That just happened, narrowly escaping danger. Had Zhang Xian not reminded them in time for them to retreat, at least half of them would have been shot in this round of gunfire.

Duan Hong was utterly terrified, her pretty face turning pale.

Regaining her composure, she asked Zhang Xian, "What's going on? Why do they have guns?"

Zhang Xian furrowed his brows, sweeping his spiritual sense over the middle-aged men holding the guns.