In the dark night, Ghost Hand leapt through the air like a hunting tiger, roaring fiercely. A seemingly casual shot, infused with all his spirit and energy, hit the target just ten meters away, giving no time to evade. As the body attempted a side roll, the bullet slammed viciously into the target's head, drilled inside, and came out the other side, tearing off a large piece of skull, splattering red and white matter, painting the wall with eerie blood flowers.
The target's body went limp, lifelessly falling to the ground. Ghost Hand didn't even glance at the target; he was confident in his close-range shooting skills and had no time to observe. More enemies appeared up front. As he landed, Ghost Hand tilted his feet sideways and rolled twice, feeling his previous landing spot getting hit by bullets. His heart quaked in fear, rolling a couple more times for reassurance, swiftly surveying his surroundings.
