Flames blossomed, bullets whistling out.
They then shot straight into the dazzling golden orb, precisely hitting the "culprit" manufacturing the murderous intent.
Fang Cheng’s eyes were stern, both hands holding the gun, decisively pulling the trigger, firing at this priceless treasure full of magical allure.
One shot, two shots, three shots...
His fingers mechanically yet firmly kept pulling, until the magazine was entirely emptied.
However, all the bullets fired seemed blocked by an invisible barrier, not even a sound of impact was heard, all falling onto the stone platform.
The Golden Benba Bottle only had its surrounding light quiver a few times, seemingly undamaged, still steadily floating in the air.
Like a deity high above the clouds, gazing down on all life below.
Buddhist sounds wafted softly, the golden glow dazzling as before.
The bewitching power was not reduced at all, continuing to emanate its tempting aura in all directions.
Enticing those of weak will, like moths to a flame, to approach it without regret.
However, after this encounter.
It also underwent a change, seeming more focused on someone daring enough to disturb the peace of a feared figure.
The Buddhist sound instantly became more melodious, like celestial music from the heavens, ethereal and clear, lingering by the ear.
Each note carried a soul-purifying magic, immersing the listener instantly.
As the melody turned graceful, the pitch gradually rising, like a troupe of celestial maidens dancing gracefully in the sky, garments fluttering, scattering petal-like illusions of light and shadow.
The listener seemed to be in a fairyland, visions of mist-shrouded sacred mountains and radiant palaces appearing before their eyes.
Involuntarily, they moved step by step closer to that illusory realm, lost in the enchantment...
Though it possessed intelligence, it did not know it faced a target with an epic talent, with a resistance to curses and enchantments beyond imagination.
Seeing the scene, Fang Cheng swept his gaze.
Looking at a nearby treasure hunter with a dazed expression, his gaze fell on the submachine gun held in his hand.
Then he briskly stepped forward, snatching the more powerful weapon.
Immediately turning the gun barrel, aiming at the Golden Benba Bottle, he pressed the trigger hard.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—
The submachine gun spat out ferocious flames, bullets pouring out like torrential rain.
This time, there was indeed a noticeable effect.
The frequency of the shimmering light around the Golden Benba Bottle began to accelerate, ripples appearing on the orb’s surface.
Even the surrounding air showed signs of fluctuation, making the softly drifting Buddhist sounds tremble.
Like a buzzing electrical interference intertwined with the rhythm of gunfire.
The high notes were sharp like splintering glass, while the low notes were soft like diarrhea, distorted to a maddening degree.
This allowed many treasure hunters to break free from the mesmerizing state controlled by the Buddhist sounds.
They seemed to wake from a deep dream, their eyes showing confusion and lingering fear.
Seeing their companions ahead being engulfed by the golden orb, they were struck like lightning, completely awakening.
Immediately they retreated chaotically, stumbling and pushing each other, wanting nothing more than to distance themselves from the eerie orb.
A stark contrast to the previous rush to seize it.
Fang Cheng finished one magazine from the submachine gun, keeping his composure, then snatching another gun and continuing the barrage.
Professor, Ba Ming, and other experts barely maintained their will, all wearing looks of shock, watching Fang Cheng "roughly" handle such a rarity.
In their hearts, the Golden Benba Bottle was invaluable, an object mutants dreamed of but dared not desecrate.
Fang Cheng’s actions were no different from wielding a fire stick, barging into an antique store, and smashing delicate porcelain.
Others snapped back and then stared wide-eyed at this scene.
Feeling Fang Cheng was like a ruthless bandit ravaging the goddess of their hearts.
This left them both shocked and unable to comprehend, with a compulsion to stop him, yet they dared not speak.
Nail Head’s eyes flashed with a hint of surprise, then his lips curled up, nodding slightly, clapping.
That expression seemed to greatly admire Fang Cheng’s "ruthless" move, considering him a kindred spirit.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—
The gunfire resounded suddenly in the underground vault, hurting the eardrums.
Under such savage firepower, the Golden Benba Bottle finally couldn’t withstand it, its light flashing intensely, darkening.
As the orb’s area kept shrinking, bullets finally pierced the invisible barrier, directly hitting the bottle.
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang—
Accompanied by a series of crisp, melodious impacts, dazzling sparks scattered widely.
Fang Cheng’s eyes were resolute, devoid of others’ concerns, the submachine gun constantly spitting flames.
The floating Golden Benba Bottle shook violently, eventually swept off the stone platform by a spray of bullets.
With a "bang", it crashed to the ground, rolling a few times, stained with dust.
Meanwhile, the life-consuming golden orb seemed to lose its source of magic, abruptly collapsing and dissipating.
Like an array hub destroyed, forcing the entire array to cease operation.
The scene fell silent instantly.
Whether in the open or hidden in the dark, all treasure hunters wore faces of astonishment, eyes wide, mouths slightly open.
As if struck by an Immobilization Spell, minds momentarily stalled, unable to immediately digest the sudden turn of events.