Jimmy took advantage of the situation to step back a few paces. There was no time to change bullets now, so he directly drew his Glock. Over a dozen rounds poured into the man within two seconds, yet the 9mm bullets didn't even pierce the skin, blocked entirely by the smoke surrounding the man. The kinetic force pushed him back, giving Priest Turner some opportunity to attack.

This time, Jimmy truly felt his scalp tingling. It was now clear that Turner's and Rodney's broadswords and shortswords barely harmed this man. Unless they could attack his weak points with force, simply nicking him wouldn't get the job done anytime soon. Jimmy's guns had issues too. The Glock was completely ineffective, and the 1875 could only ensure breaking the defense, unable to penetrate, only slightly better than nicking.

After swapping out the spare magazine, Jimmy set it aside and took the opportunity to load his revolver. He picked up the 1875 from the ground and replaced its bullets, having exhausted all his backup ammunition.

Just twelve bullets left; whether they could finish the job was uncertain. Jimmy surveyed the scene. Rodney and Turner had temporarily entangled the man; though they'd been struck a few times, they'd managed to hold him off.

The man was wounded now, showing an outburst after injury, definitely unable to last long, but also more dangerous than before.

Jimmy bit down on the dagger, holding two revolvers with both hands, aiming at the man. Shooting directly would certainly hit, but it was meaningless since merely wounding couldn't take him down. Jimmy had no choice but to try his ability.

Roland had once said that Jimmy's ability was known as Flash Spirit, a very rare skill. What Jimmy needed now was to test whether he could imbue his guns and bullets with this ability.

With intense concentration, Jimmy's Heart Eye vision began to narrow. He tried to control himself, sharpening the initially unclear ballistic guidance until it was perfectly visible. The targeted spots on the man's body seemed to magnify, and spots—the same white points Jimmy noticed on the Resentful Spirit—appeared on his body and head.

This was new; Jimmy had never used this ability on a human before, and it was only the second time he'd faced a situation where his bullets were largely ineffective.

From observing the white points on the Resentful Spirit, which were its weak spots, these must be the man's weak spots too. Jimmy hoped for the points to be clearer and fewer, but after waiting a while without change, he couldn't wait anymore. Guided by the trajectory and familiarity with the revolvers, he rapidly emptied the right-hand revolver's six bullets.

This time, he aimed at the white points on the heart and head. After firing, he realized he had missed, with only two bullets accurately hitting the white points, while the other four went slightly astray, producing entirely different effects. The two that hit the white points penetrated the man's body, but the misaligned ones, like before, broke the surface barely digging deeper.

Jimmy judged the effects of his shots by observing the black mist enveloping the man. In previous rounds, different bullets impacted the mist differently, but the two bullets hitting the white points visibly drove away the man's surrounding black mist, marking a significant difference.

Jimmy switched the revolver from his left hand to his right for another round of shooting, but the man didn't stop waiting for him.

Other bullets merely forced the man back; their damage wasn't severe, but those two bullets dealt him internal injuries. The man pressed his left chest over his heart, where the bullets struck, feeling distinctly weakened.

Blocking a shortsword with one hand, the man deliberately turned toward Jimmy, charging at him furiously. This shooter inflicted the worst injury, and he had to stop him from firing any further.

Jimmy saw the man running toward him but didn't move. He'd gathered from discovering the white points that intense concentration was needed to see these weak spots; additionally, he wasn't entirely defenseless. With this brief time, being able to aim and shoot a few rounds was enough.

This time, concentrating took effect much faster, and as the man approached Jimmy, he fired the revolver, aiming at the head. One bullet even pierced the eye into the brain. After Jimmy shot, the man stumbled a few steps, then fell forward to the ground, rolling a few times before stopping.

Rodney and Turner, the priests following from behind, didn't relax after the man fell. Turner's broadsword, being longer, directly slashed at the neck; despite the poor angle from the ground, it successfully opened a wound along the neck. With the hit, Priest Turner immediately stepped back to avoid a sneaky counterattack.

Jimmy had already spent all his .44 Magnum bullets. He put away the revolver, moved the dagger from his mouth to his right hand, stepped back a few paces, and focused on the man lying on the ground, watching the black mist surrounding him disperse rapidly. This time wasn't like the last encounter Rodney and the priests had, where the mist formed a gathering above like a Resentful Spirit but instead dissipated directly into the air.

With the mist nearly gone, the man finally began to bleed from his wounds, though not much. Jimmy wasn't shooting for the first time; those times, the bleeding was extensive after falling. The man on the ground only had a small puddle—his blood volume seemed limited, which was odd.

Jimmy: "Priest Rodney, can you check? I can't determine..."

Priest Rodney glanced at Priest Turner, who cautiously approached the man, turning him over with hands, finding blood flowing from the heart and head wounds. His brain matter seeped out, differing in color from the blood.

Priest Turner felt the corpse's neck, nodding at Priest Rodney. Rodney sheathed his shortsword, fetched a small bottle of Holy Water from his pocket, sprinkled it on the man, and retrieved his cross, chanting a few verses in front of the corpse, then nodded to Jimmy: "All clear."

Jimmy took a deep breath, returned the dagger to the sheath at his waist, "Terrifying, so scary. Priest Rodney, you should carry two guns in the future. I don't know about other cases, but this one, your opponents didn't fear your swords."

Priest Rodney showed an odd expression, gazing at Jimmy before sighing: "No one expected them to be so difficult, and their appearances are increasing; this is going to be a major problem."

Jimmy: "How do we handle this? The gunshots should've been heard, anticipating the police soon."

Priest Rodney: "Don't worry, we'll take care of it."

He glanced down at the corpse, then towards Jimmy: "How did you manage it?"

Jimmy blinked: "I just shot him dead, lucky enough that one bullet went through the eye. That should've been the fatal shot, right?"

Priest Rodney: "May I see your gun?"

Jimmy drew out a 1875 and handed it to Priest Rodney: "Of course, this is my spare gun, equipped with high-power .44 Magnum bullets. If the Glock fails, I use this."

Priest Rodney opened the revolver cylinder for a glimpse. Jimmy had already ejected the empty shells leaving no spare bullets, so the cylinder stayed empty. He examined thoroughly, "Your hobby is quite peculiar, using an antique gun's casing for a revolver design. Here it is back."

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