Seeing Cen Dongsheng completely unharmed by a bullet, the villagers behind the leading man raised their hunting guns.
"Bang!"
"Bang bang bang!"
Bullets flew like a storm.
As ghosts, the guns they held were not real firearms, but were made of yin energy, yet this did not mean they lacked power.
Several bullets whizzed past Cen Dongsheng, striking nearby rocks, leaving white indentations on their surfaces and causing fragments to splinter off in a series of small explosions.
"?!"
Hiding behind some trees nearby, Song Yutang's pupils contracted as he watched the stones shatter and scatter, then looked at the man standing tall amidst rising smoke, disbelieving.
In terms of physical destructive power, the guns in the ghosts' hands were clearly stronger than old hunting rifles, powerful enough to kill ordinary beasts with one shot.