Insufficient balance

  Mu Ke's mistake was that he, being accustomed to wielding the iron spear, did not "hold without revealing the handle". This is the most different place between the big gun holding method and the iron spear (spear) holding method.

  The back hand holding the gun should grip the end of the gun stock, making it hidden and not exposed. The characteristic of this grip is that the force of the gun stock and arm are connected, allowing you to feel the information from the muzzle.

  It's also Muk's early days of learning and practicing, many things are not thoroughly grasped, and the true trick of the big gun is not fully mastered.

  Zhou Fubo stared with wide eyes, like all impatient children, his two hands slapping his thighs non-stop, as if he wanted to go up and fight himself.

  "Hmph, you men are just too impatient, it's just a martial arts competition!"

  At this time, Little John said in a lukewarm tone in French, as if reminding Zhao Fu that he should maintain his knightly demeanor.

  Zhao Fubo, who couldn't go on stage, glared at him and retorted: "We men, it seems you're not a man! Of course, you don't count as a man, just a somewhat good-looking boy!"

  Little John with blonde hair and blue eyes immediately glared, looking like he was going to confront Zhao Fubo. But then it seemed like something stopped him, so he could only watch as Zhao Fubo sulkily bit his red lips in anger and went back to the lab.

  Martin looked at her back, a mysterious smile floating on his face. Was there some secret between him and Little John?

  Earnest

  The sound of two gunstocks colliding again, this time Muk was forced to retreat a big step. Unaccustomed to the large gunstock, he was only left with defensive strength under Abdul Matini's fierce attack.

  "Hey, Muk, why don't you take a break and let me do it?"

  Zhao Fubo was so anxious that he shouted out loud, Mu Ke's footsteps were clearly disordered, and even his flaxen hair seemed to have darkened in color, which was a sign of sweating.

  Kemuk could only grit his teeth and stiffen up with all his might.

  Abdul-Matin's iron spear continued to flash in the wind, but he couldn't help but admire the small Mamluk in front of him. He knew that if his opponent had a suitable weapon, although ultimately doomed to defeat, he would have put up a much better fight than this.

  With one final thrust of his sword, he made a beeline for Muk's chest.

  At this time, Muk was already somewhat exhausted after being hit by several consecutive heavy blows from the opponent, but the training he received did not allow him to fall down.

  The tip of Tie Gun's gun finally stopped at Muk's chest, leaving everyone who saw it stunned.

  Abdul Matin was able to stop the iron spear at such a distance, and his arm strength and control ability had already made everyone stunned.

  At the second game, Abdul-Jabbar was indeed a mediocre Mamluk. Facing Zhao Fu's big gun, he kept shaking his head. Even in the end, he simply sat on the ground, with a neck-stretching posture waiting to be executed.

  "No, I won't fight you, Master. You're the only one who doesn't whip me for speaking out of turn. If I accidentally killed you, where would I find another master like that? Even if I couldn't kill you, it's still a risk, so even if you point a gun at me, I won't fight back..."

  Faced with such a guy, almost everyone can only smile wryly.

  "Alright, alright, we won't compare! But Young Master, if I were to compete with you now, wouldn't that be taking advantage of you?"

  When the big gun returned to Zhao Fubo's hands, he was like a completely different person.

  If Shu Yiner were here right now and saw him like this, her beautiful eyes would definitely be shining with stars.

  But what's puzzling is that Little John, who had just stormed out of the lab in anger, suddenly appeared at the martial arts arena. For some reason, his gaze at Zhao Fubo was somewhat similar to Shu Yiner's.

  Luckily Zhao Fubo didn't see it, otherwise with a whole body of goosebumps, I'm afraid the martial arts competition wouldn't be necessary anymore.

  Abdul Matin faced Zhao Fubo's inquiry, he lightly swung his iron spear and indicated that there was no problem.

  "Come on, this is what I've been waiting for!"

  Mu Ke's green eyes, which had almost lost their strength, looked at Zhao Fu Bo, and although he only said a few words, the hope in his gaze was expressed clearly.

  "This is going to be your loss!"

  With a heavy nod towards Mu Ke, Zhao Fu Bo held his gun with both hands, but he had already entered a certain state. His two eyes were no longer as helpless as when he was reading, but seemed like two deep wells. His spirit was fully concentrated, making his pupils as sharp as needle tips.

  The big gun in his hand, however, was now slightly trembling. As he stood still holding the gun for a longer time, the big gun head shook more violently.

  At this point, the difference from Mu Ke's gun head shaking method can be seen. When Zhao Fu Bo's big gun head shook up, it seemed like a pendant lamp, with a certain rhythm.

  Abdul Matin, who was slightly pleased in his heart, collected his thoughts. At first, when he saw Zhao Fu Bo still holding that big gun, he had some doubts in his mind.

  Now, a cold and eerie aura is emanating from the red tassel of that constantly swaying giant gun head. It's as if there's a pair of cold eyes staring at him intently, causing a chill to rise up from the bottom of his heart.

  "Look out, gun!"

  As Zhao Fubo let out a low shout, the power of his gun technique, which had been tempered for five years, burst forth in an instant.

  As the red tassels on the gun head spun around, a residual shadow like a red storm completely blocked Abdul Matin's line of sight.

  Relying on his fighting experience, he couldn't see where the opponent's gun tip would pierce his body.

  Helpless, the iron spear in his hand swung out fiercely with a sense of feeling. He only hoped to hit the opponent's gun handle, so that its momentum would deflect to one side.

  Earnest

  But when his gun head and the opponent's gun rod truly collided, the change caused him to be shocked.

  The opponent's spear shaft was like a spiritual snake, lightly touching and then flipping to avoid the huge power on his iron spear.

  The almost unopposed advance of the Iron Division had gone to Abdul Mateen's head and he was now almost out of control.

  The opponent's spear came with an unstoppable momentum, its tip darting towards him like a venomous snake, relentlessly piercing into his chest.

  "Ah, how could this be...!"

  Startled, he could only drag his iron spear and quickly retreat backwards, wanting to avoid the increasingly close gun tip. But Zhao Fubao's big spear was like a bone-attached ulcer, constantly drilling around him in a threatening manner.

  After retreating several steps, Abdul Matini finally retrieved his iron spear. At this time, he dared not use his powerful strength to seal it again, fearing that he would lose it once more. He could only wait for Zhao Fubo's attack with a light and quick rhythm to counterattack.

  "Dong...... Dong...... Dong......"

  In a flurry of bayonet and rifle clashes, Abdul Matin struggled to fend off the seemingly ubiquitous attacks. He felt as if there were countless gun muzzles that would suddenly swoop in at every moment he let his guard down.

  However, when he started to guard the gate, Zhao Fubo's gun style suddenly became open and closed. The white wax stick emitted a "hulu" sound, just like the whistling of the cold wind at night.

  In the blink of an eye, Abdul Matin's iron spear rose to block Zhao Fubo's gun, but he didn't expect this seal would have such a result.

  "Ding!"

  Another blow struck, and a massive force was transmitted along the gun barrel to Abdul Matin's hand, causing his rhythmic and swift counterattack to be immediately interrupted, and even the great power almost made Abdul Matin's iron spear fall out of his hand.

  In the subsequent continuous attack, Abdul Matin, who had been at a disadvantage all along, never regained the initiative. The opponent's sudden light and heavy, unpredictable attacks also made him tired of responding.

  "Will I be defeated by a half-grown kid? Or will my undefeated record end this year?"

  This unpleasant guess made Abdul Matin's heart aching for a while, Zhao Fu was only fifteen years old, and he was already eighteen years old.

  And just now those ideas that flashed through his heart like an electric current made him think it was necessary to make a desperate attack.

  Again, the white spearhead came with a "whooshing" sound from the side, striking. Abdul Matin's eyes widened and his teeth clenched tightly. He stared intently at the snow-white spearhead shaking rapidly in the red tassel.

  With all his might, he thrust the iron spear forward with great force.

  However, for the big gun that he didn't understand at all, he once again got himself into trouble. The heavy iron spear's power was once again like a stone sinking in the ocean, and it basically didn't touch anything.

  What made Abdul Matin's soul fly away even more was that the excessive force caused his body to turn sideways, and the entire side of his body was now exposed under Zhao Fubo's constantly shaking gun tip.

  Zhao Fubo held the gun with his backhand, feeling every piece of information transmitted to him by the tip of the big gun. Even a slight tremble or a powerful impact.

  Abdul Matin's iron spear swept through the air, and Zhao Fubo's spear in his hand changed direction. The big spear immediately turned back, and the heavy spear momentum was slowly dissipated after several consecutive spear flowers.

  Then Zhao Fubo held up his spear with one hand and charged at Abdul Matini with a fist.

  Until all the gunpowder had dissipated, Abdul Matini didn't truly let out a breath of relief. He also grasped the iron spear in his palm and saluted Zhao Fubo.

  "Ah!"

  At this point, everyone present held their breath, especially Martin, who had never thought that China's internal family gun method was so sharp.

  Just then, a shrill cry broke the slightly dull atmosphere after the martial arts performance. What made the poet turn his head in surprise was that Little John actually cheered like a little girl.

  "Wow, you're really awesome, we lost!"

  At this time, Zhao Fubo thought of a way to stop her screaming.

  "Little John, I've learned Western languages with you, shouldn't you also learn Chinese with me?"