Zhou Zhou tightened his grip on Anson's shoulders, but let go decisively, "Okay, my gun is faster than yours."
"I thought you would at least say to me, 'Don't die' or something like that." Anson looked disappointed.
"Get out of here quickly." Callum Zhou replaced the magazine of his gun, checked the gun quickly and neatly but meticulously, and then waited.
All the muscles in his body tensed up, and he clenched his teeth in preparation for his attack.
The breathing rhythm calmed down, and the finger on the trigger relaxed slightly and then turned white with tension.
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