"Blame yourself for coming here blindly, I suppose."
The heavy hunting pistol spun once in Sun Hang's palm before it smashed solidly onto the chin of the one lying upside down.
Who said a hunting pistol is useless after it runs out of bullets? Even without them, it still makes a formidable weapon.
Especially with that handle customized with extra weights.
Sun Hang gripped the gun, wielding the metal-clad handle like a nimble war hammer, striking down on the inverted figure repeatedly. It wasn't long before the ear-piercing screams ceased, leaving only intermittent gasps.
"Tsk, so dirty."
Sun Hang glanced at the gun in his hand; the handle, coated in metal, was covered in bits of flesh and blood, with a few maggoty mush remains faintly visible — one must admit, the protein level was indeed off the charts.
Sun Hang placed his foot on the head of the inverted man, ripping a large piece of cloth from his clothes with a 'tearing' sound, and began wiping the pistol leisurely.
