"Shen Qiuyue, should we retreat?! Let's live to fight another day!" Sun Yang yelled while frantically spraying with his Pulse Gun. The suppressive fire was effective, but he was running dangerously low on ammo.
"Shut up! Just hold on a little longer!"
Shen Qiuyue replied coldly. Her Dueling Sword flashed, bisecting an approaching member of the Insect Race.
Bright green liquid splattered across the ground, but she didn't even blink.
"Hold on? Easy for you to say!"
Sun Yang gasped for breath behind a rock, the heat from the Pulse Gun making his palm go numb. "I'm almost out of ammo! If ten more of them show up, we're toast!"
Xiaohai gave him a calm glance. "If ten more do show up, the optimal solution would be for you to use your gunstock in close combat. You could at least hold them off."
"Me, use my gunstock? Are you kidding me?!"
Sun Yang's eyes widened. "The fangs of the Insect Race can chew through steel plates! I'm just flesh and blood—one touch and I'm a goner!"
