Bei Lihui dodged again and made his final decision, ignoring the boy who was doomed to die.
He spurred on the Biochemical Combat Suit once more, striding rapidly forward, relentlessly closing in on Zheng Tian's position.
When they were less than fifty meters apart, Bei Lihui finally sneered, letting out a low growl, "Caught you. Little mouse."
Although his line of sight was still obstructed by dust, he had thoroughly mapped the airflow and predicted Zheng Tian's location.
Immediately, he leveled his twin guns, pointing them at a thirty-three-degree angle to the right front.
His fingers seemed welded to the triggers.
The muzzles of the long-barreled pistols shot out two straight beams of high-energy rays, burning towards a clump of bushes ahead.
But Bei Lihui did not hear the anticipated screams.
The bushes merely shook violently.
