Even if he teamed up with Zhou Ming, trying to slay a Tier Six great flame demon would at least require a tough battle, costing several wounds in the process.
But what about Qin Tian?
He just moved his finger.
This level of efficiency in killing far exceeded their imagination and even overturned their perception of Spiritualist combat.
Chang Sheng opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat dry and painful, only able to emit a hoarse gasping sound.
He looked down at the wound on his left shoulder and then up at the unassuming black sniper rifle in Qin Tian's hand, feeling a chill from his feet to his skull—if that shot had been aimed at him, there probably wouldn't even be a trace left.
