"It's not just the master who has one; you all have them too. Someone, give the Taoists and these experts rifles, everyone gets one!"
With Deputy Mo's command, the soldiers in the front row swiftly unbuckled their spare rifles and handed them to those still dazed experts.
The cold steel rifles felt heavy in their hands, and for a moment, everyone stood frozen in place.
The old monk was still foolishly cradling the rifle Deputy Mo threw to him, his face full of confusion.
Master Qingyunzi's hand, which held the Peach Wood Sword, trembled slightly, and the rifle in his other hand seemed as heavy as a thousand pounds.
The various martial artists exchanged glances, realizing that the exorcism secrets they had practiced for years paled in comparison to the simple act of pulling a trigger.
Decades of cultivation and hard work seemed so powerless before these rifles with talismans.
