Huangfu Huazhang's words barely fell when he raised his hand and shot at the camera.
From George's perspective, the bullet that was fired, wrapped in heat and etched with rifling, rushed towards him cloaked in green light, like a ghost bullet heading straight for his face!
He screamed in shock, instinctively backing away. The chair lost its balance, taking him down with it. Fortunately, he came to his senses and realized that the bullet wasn't actually aimed at him, quickly grabbing the table to stabilize himself.
Looking back towards the screen, it was already filled with static.
"Bastard!" George slammed the table, angrily folding his arms and pacing the room three times.
The bastard had always been a master of strategy, so no matter the situation, he preferred to slow down the pace, engage in psychological warfare, and rarely resorted to such direct physical actions.
