Clang! Clang! Clang!
The twin guns in Ye Zhongming’s hands clashed several times with the Director’s ruler and the Chairman’s crank-like weapon.
Each side took a step back.
Ye Zhongming held an absolute advantage in raw strength, but his weapons weren’t 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 Zhongming’s state still possess such power?
Moving in perfect sync, they pressed forward, refusing to give Ye Zhongming any breathing room.
Then—
Ye Zhongming’s guns fired.
The two leaders instinctively flinched.
They relaxed slightly, only to tense up again as Ye Zhongming’s 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 Chairman’s 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 Director’s ruler, meanwhile, revealed its true power. With each strike, strange Sanskrit chants reverberated, assaulting Ye Zhongming’s 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.
“Wait—your 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 Chairman’s voice was shrill with disbelief. Earlier, his special scan had confirmed the weapon was purple-grade.
It wasn’t that he lacked experience, but he’d never seen equipment downgrade without damage, let alone split into two weaker copies!
“What the hell?!”
The Director, though startled, didn’t stop attacking. His ruler descended toward Ye Zhongming, its surface shimmering with the phantom of a scholar reading a book—a 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 retreating—both were impossible.
This was the Reaper Mimic Shooter’s 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”—firing shots at key nodes to lay the groundwork.
His earlier “misses” hadn’t been failures. They’d 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 target’s movement was severely restricted.
Simple. Almost useless—at first glance.
But there was one exception to the lockdown’s rules:
The Reaper Mimic Shooter itself.
People couldn’t move.
But the guns could.
Ye Zhongming’s muzzles swung toward the two leaders.
Neither had ever encountered such a skill. Shock gave way to cold focus—they were, after all, among the planet’s elite.
“Find its limit—break it!”
The Director’s 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 items—not even bothering to target Ye Zhongming—before unleashing their attacks.
The Chairman’s shield was a small, exquisite square, its surface painted with multicolored concentric circles. It hovered protectively before his torso.