Lin Fan’s arsenal was paltry against the force arrayed against him: an enhanced 73-Vespa handgun, an N9 Colt Assault Rifle with fifteen magazines, and the Lightweight Mecha Arm, its durability worn down to a precarious 130. He was dangerously outgunned.
Another crack echoed through the forest, and the tree he was hiding behind exploded in a spray of splinters. The bullet had punched straight through, narrowly missing his head. Lin Fan grunted,
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