The muzzle of the Remington was only a foot away from Professor Yao's chest.
As he pulled the trigger, Zheng Qing envisioned countless possible outcomes — like the Fu Bullet being intercepted by the professor's finger before hitting his chest; or the Fu Bullet hitting the professor's chest with as little impact as a speck of dust falling onto water; or perhaps the professor suddenly revealing his true form with three heads and eight arms, swallowing the Fu Bullet whole.
Of course, the last possibility was extremely low.
The one thing he hadn't anticipated was that the Fu Bullet never hit the professor. The pale blue shot left the gun muzzle, shooting straight ahead like a meteor, yet no matter how fast it was, it always stayed more than a foot away from Professor Yao's chest.
It was as if the space in front of the professor's chest was a vast universe.
While the Fu Bullet resembled a tiny bug trapped in amber.
