Yang Xiao crouched motionless until the icy muzzle moved away from the back of his head.
"Sorry, I had no other choice. This ends here today," the Raincoat Man slowly stepped back, his gun still aimed at Yang Xiao.
He was ready to leave. He had already lingered here too long, and his spiritual power was nearly depleted. But, just as he turned to flee, his body suddenly began to tremble uncontrollably, weakness overcoming him, his limbs soft and sore. Only a few breaths later, he could no longer stand and dropped to one knee in the rain.
Even then, he kept a death grip on the wooden mallet in his hand. He knew well this was the ability of the mallet, but why... why had it backfired onto himself?
At the same time, the dark clouds and curtain of rain above slowly dissipated, the Raincoat Man's spiritual power stripped away, crushing the last shred of hope he had.