The familiar screech, the terrifying screams—Luo Zheng's heart seized up. He turned his head and saw that a woman sitting nearby had her palm shattered; a coffee cup lay broken on the table, blood was everywhere. Gunshots. Luo Zheng was horrified and quickly crawled further under the table, taking cover at the edge of the window. He glanced at Ghost Hand, who was dialing on his phone.
"Sniper?" Luo Zheng realized. If Ghost Hand hadn't warned him just now, he wouldn't have thought to get up, and thus he wouldn't have leaned backward as he stood, making his head draw back. The whistling sniper bullet would have hit him right in the head, turning him into a cold corpse.