Bang!

He fired the gun the instant he raised his hand, with the muzzle less than two centimeters from his temple.

Almost all recruits instinctively reacted. It didn’t matter if they were A-rank or B-rank. Some flinched and shrugged their shoulders or squeezed their eyes shut. Others shielded their faces with their elbows or jumped back.

Then, a metallic clang echoed—the sound of a brass bullet hitting the ground.

The maneuvering device on Qi Shantong’s back briefly flashed blue.

“Thrilling, isn’t it?” he asked, raising his head with a genuine smile.

After laughing for a moment, he added placidly, with the sincere guidance of the most patient and skillful teacher[1], “We’re not Sharpies. We’re not as strong as them, and we don’t have a full suit of dead iron armor. So the speed at which we can call on and channel source energy determines whether we...