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The clown momentarily paused as numerous bloodforged blades erupted from the floor of the stage.
His body twisted unnaturally as he attempted to slip through the gaps of the bladed prison that Wang Yu had conjured.
Unfortunately for him, Wang Yu had created as many of the bloodforged blades as he could manage. No matter how the clown contorted his body, the gaps between the blades were simply too narrow for him to escape through.
The bullets weren't something to be trifled with, either. The clown had pushed his dexterity to its limit—it was too late for him to avoid the rest of the incoming bullets.
Of the six bullets that had been fired, four barely grazed the clown's body, tearing slashes through his garish costume. The last two struck him directly.
Instead of the sound of flesh being torn apart, however, there was the distinct ring of metal. Sparks flew from the points of impact between the clown's body and the bullets.
"Is he armored?" Wang Yu frowned. That thought flashed through his mind as he plummeted from the air, but he quickly dismissed it. It wasn't possible for the clown to exhibit such flexibility while wearing metal armor, which would severely hinder his mobility.
It didn't take long before Wang Yu figured out what sort of trick the clown had used. The bullets that had hit him...
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