Lu Yang approached.
Seeing Mo Shangjun's actions, he couldn't help but ask, "Not taking it?"
After all, it's a pretty good weapon. If dismantled into parts and put in the backpack, it can be used anytime.
Moreover, Lu Yang glanced at Mo Shangjun's backpack—there weren't many things; it could completely fit.
"Won't use it."
Mo Shangjun took a few steps back, observed the angle, ensured it wouldn't be noticed without careful scrutiny, and then, feeling assured, clapped her hands.
She can't use it, but she doesn't want this weapon to be picked up by just anyone.
Lu Yang was somewhat puzzled and hinted, "Miao Lun is a sniper."
"Hmm." With one hand in her pocket, Mo Shangjun turned her head slightly, looking at him with a half smile, "But I'm not a sniper."
"That's a sniper rifle."
"But I don't intend to compete with him in marksmanship." Mo Shangjun flexed her wrist, made a fist with her right hand, and smiled, "I'm more skilled in close-quarters combat."
"..."
