Clang! Clang! Clang!
The twin guns in Ye Zhongmingâs hands clashed several times with the Directorâs ruler and the Chairmanâs crank-like weapon.
Each side took a step back.
Ye Zhongming held an absolute advantage in raw strength, but his weapons werenât designed for close combat, forcing him to hold back. As a result, the three were evenly matched.
The Director and Chairman grew even more wary. How could a man in Ye Zhongmingâs state still possess such power?
Moving in perfect sync, they pressed forward, refusing to give Ye Zhongming any breathing room.
Thenâ
Ye Zhongmingâs guns fired.
The two leaders instinctively flinched.
But the shots missed.
They relaxed slightly, only to tense up again as Ye Zhongmingâs muzzles swung toward them. They dodged before the triggers were pulled, shifting positions preemptively.
At the same time, their weapons lashed out at Ye Zhongming.
The Chairmanâs crank weapon, which had earlier unleashed those razor-sharp whirlwinds, now emitted eerie whistling sounds with each swing. Tiny black particles were scattered through the air, and every time Ye Zhongming touched them, his body grew heavier.
The Directorâs ruler, meanwhile, revealed its true power. With each strike, strange Sanskrit chants reverberated, assaulting Ye Zhongmingâs hearing and disrupting his movements.
The battle was fast and cautious. Within the confined space, each sought an opening to land a decisive or fatal blow.
"Waitâyour guns!"
The Chairman suddenly shouted, retreating rapidly. The Director, though confused, followed suit.
Ye Zhongming only grinned. "Too late."
As he spoke, he aimed one gun skyward and the other at the ground, and fired.
Two shots later, the surrounding space warped violently, trapping all three in a distorted field.
"How did your guns downgrade to gold-grade?!"
The Chairmanâs voice was shrill with disbelief. Earlier, his special scan had confirmed the weapon was purple-grade.
It wasnât that he lacked experience, but heâd never seen equipment downgrade without damage, let alone split into two weaker copies!
"What the hell?!"
The Director, though startled, didnât stop attacking. His ruler descended toward Ye Zhongming, its surface shimmering with the phantom of a scholar reading a bookâa built-in skill.
But before it could reach Ye Zhongming, the attack froze midair, wobbling unstably before locking in place, completely immobilized.
Only then did the Director voice his shock.
The Chairman also noticed the anomaly. His movements were restricted, and he was trapped in a cramped space where swinging his weapon became a struggle. Advancing or retreatingâboth were impossible.
This was the Reaper Mimic Shooterâs third full-auto mode ability:
"Extreme Lockdown."
Once activated, it sealed both user and targets within a confined zone. Until the skill ended or was broken, no one could leave, and nothing outside could enter.
To execute this, Ye Zhongming had first needed to "set the guns"âfiring shots at key nodes to lay the groundwork.
His earlier "misses" hadnât been failures. Theyâd been making preparations.
The ability itself had no direct offensive power, yet it was the most unique feature of this purple-grade weapon.
In this space, every targetâs movement was severely restricted.
Simple. Almost uselessâat first glance.
But there was one exception to the lockdownâs rules:
The Reaper Mimic Shooter itself.
People couldnât move.
But the guns could.
Ye Zhongmingâs muzzles swung toward the two leaders.
Neither had ever encountered such a skill. Shock gave way to cold focusâthey were, after all, among the planetâs elite.
"Find its limitâbreak it!"
The Directorâs order was crisp. The Chairman understood instantly.
Such a small, rigid space had to have a durability threshold. Overwhelm it, and the prison would shatter.
Simultaneously, they tossed out defensive itemsânot even bothering to target Ye Zhongmingâbefore unleashing their attacks.
The Chairmanâs shield was a small, exquisite square, its surface painted with multicolored concentric circles. It hovered protectively before his torso.