As Lin Xinghai closed his eyes to rest, the area instantly fell silent. No one dared to disturb him.
After all, this was the critical moment that would determine whether or not he could enter the top three on the shooting leaderboard.
If their interruption caused Lin Xinghai to underperform, no one dared to face the wrath of a Divine Sharpshooter.
So, everyone could only stand aside and wait quietly. Of course, there was an exception. Zhang Meiling was currently busy massaging Lin Xinghai's arm.
The others watched with envy. If Lin Xinghai managed to achieve a good score, the favor she was earning could be a minor one—or it could be a major one.
But they could only be envious. In this apocalyptic world, who would even bother to learn such a skill?
Ten minutes passed quickly. Though it wasn't long, it was enough for Lin Xinghai's taut nerves to relax.
