I'm bombarding the Supernatural World with my firearms

It was as if they had a spiritual crutch.

...

"Snap, snap, snap!!!"

In the sweltering minefield, Chen Miao, drenched in blood, aimlessly carried a huge rock, moving step by step towards a nearby location, while behind him, several supervising military officers used iron spike whips to continuously lash at his body.

With every explosive crack of the whip, his body bore a bloody wound.

Dozens of wounds made him look as if he had half crawled out of a blood pool.

Yet he ignored the supervising military officers lashing at him from behind, his eyes vacant as he carried the boulder, continuing to walk forward step by step.

"Damn it, damn it!!'

Initially, the supervising military officer, who had seen Chen Miao zoning out and whipped him a few times, grew enraged upon seeing that Chen Miao neither cried out in pain nor begged for it to stop.

But after dozens of lashes, with Chen Miao's body merely bleeding and not showing any signs of falling, a hint of panic and fear crossed the officer's eyes. Normally, no one could withstand ten lashes; ten lashes meant certain death, especially for these slaves who performed the heaviest labor every day.

Typically, they'd collapse at one lash and faint at three.

This tall and lean man in front of him seemed like a rock, refusing to fall. This abnormality incited a flicker of fear within him.

Just then—

Chen Miao suddenly dropped the giant rock he was holding, turned around, his right arm thrusting out, grabbing the neck of the officer who had been whipping him, his eyes flashing with confusion and a cold edge: "Are you the one who has been hitting me?"

He felt as if he had slept too deeply the day before, leaving his head feeling groggy today.

"Mmmph...!"

The supervising military officer, suddenly choked around the neck and lifted into the air, couldn't utter a word, his face turning pale as he frantically struggled, but no matter how he pounded on Chen Miao's arm, Chen Miao's arm remained immovable in midair, clearly not on the same level.

The intense suffocation made him feel as though death was imminent!

"Let him go!"

"

The commotion drew many supervising military officers; seven or eight men dressed in cloth and holding iron spike whips, with traces of fear and panic in their eyes, encircled Chen Miao, "What do you think you're doing? Rebelling?"

"Wish to die, do you!"

This slave seemed different from the others; his strength was alarmingly great. If this slave were to go berserk, it was questionable whether they could stop him or not. At the moment, they could only try to intimidate him.

And with Chen Miao's sudden resistance—

In the minefield, the remaining slaves, who had been working with shackles on their feet, suddenly expressionlessly straightened their long-bent backs, all turning to look in Chen Miao's direction. In their vacant eyes, a faint glimmer of hope shimmered.

Some held rocks in their hands, others clutched wooden branches.

They had been oppressed for too long, so long they had forgotten how to resist. It wasn't that they lacked the courage to rebel; rather, all who had tried had perished. Yet at this moment, Chen Miao gave them hope again: this man clearly possessed tremendous strength.

If this man were willing to lead, they were not afraid to meet their end.

They weren't afraid of death.

They only feared dying without a shred of hope, willing to bet everything they had left on even the slightest chance.

But just then—

A roar awakened Chen Miao from his grogginess.

"How dare a slave like you commit such insolence? Release the supervising military officer immediately, or your entire family will die because of you!!!"

The head of the supervising military officers glared at Chen Miao, furiously reprimanding him, though inwardly he felt somewhat unsure.

Chen Miao stood there stunned; although he sensed something was amiss, he still subconsciously released his right hand, putting down the officer he was holding. He was a slave, after all, and it seemed he really shouldn't commit such an act against a superior.

In a daze, he picked up the rock and continued forward.

Seeing this—

The slaves who had just straightened up in unison once more bent their backs, numbly returning to transporting the mine's rocks as if nothing had happened.

Only the supervising military officer, who had narrowly escaped death, scurried away in terror, while the head officer, who had intimidated Chen Miao into submission, initially paused, then cracked a satisfied smirk.
Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Another person unable to cut ties with his family.

As long as one had a weakness, they could be manipulated at will.

He certainly had no authority to kill the family of this slave, nor did he even know where the slave's family might be, but that wasn't important. In this slave's mind, he represented the government. While he lacked the power, someone behind him surely possessed it.

This slave seemed very strong; if he could be made to serve, that would be a significant boon.

From then on—

For three whole years, Chen Miao toiled in this minefield. During that time, countless slaves were sent in, and countless died from beatings or exhaustion. Chen Miao alone did the work of over a dozen men.

He was the darling of the mine chief.

"Go."

Lying in a shady spot, the head supervising military officer, looking at the blood-soaked Chen Miao with a hint of mockery, said, "Go, fetch me that basket of oranges, or I'll kill your entire family."

Over the years, he had found this phrase to be incredibly useful; whenever he said this, no matter what he told Chen Miao to do, Chen Miao would do it.

Gradually, this phrase became his catchphrase.

He found himself saying it at every opportunity.