Chapter 342: Chapter 167: Merely a Fatal Wound, Not Fatal at All_3

Issue everyone with a submachine gun!

Wayne moved stealthily for ten meters, crouching low as he suddenly accelerated, the whooshing of air reaching the ears of three Black Robes. Without a second thought, they turned and pulled the trigger.

Whoosh!

A fleeting shadow swept by; Wayne crossed his arms in front of him. At the location of his arms, two long knives writhed, transforming into a greyish flesh and reverted back to their original arm shape.

Three heads soared into the sky, the headless bodies still standing, fingers twitching on the triggers.

Bullets sprayed aimlessly, some hitting the walls, and some piercing through Wayne's chest and head. His face contorted as foam wriggled, pushing the bullets out of his body.

So-called lethal injuries weren't lethal at all!