The black-garbed man calmly sidestepped, raised his hand, and caught the Black Gun flying at high speed in his hand with a bang.
Fizz.
The drive unit of Lin Xian's power armor below erupted with surging power, propelling him seven or eight meters forward. The electric surge in his hand flickered, and he mercilessly blasted it toward the black-garbed man's face.
Crack crack~
The man didn't dodge. A mechanical mask appeared over his face, and the electric surge that struck it merely sparked twice, failing to pierce through the material of the mechanical mask.
Lin Xian beckoned with his hand; the magnetic control engine of the Black Gun roared, but it was held firmly in the man's hand, unable to move.
The man glanced indifferently at Lin Xian while looking at the Black Gun, constantly shaking and trying to escape from his grasp.
