[Wilderness]
On a nameless small hill within the former border no-man's land on the west bank of the Big Horn River, the young hunter Bell patiently awaited his target.
A revolver gun with its spring already tightened, ammunition already compressed, ready to fire at any moment, lay quietly on Bell's knee.
The barrel of this rifle was crafted by the finest reamers and grinders of Steel Castle, its body straight as light, its bore smooth as water, longer and more slender than ordinary rifle barrels, causing its price to rise exponentially with the length-to-diameter ratio, reaching a figure so high that the great figure of the Empire who commissioned it felt it unnecessary to pay the final installments.
Thus, the barrel eventually fell into the hands of "Baron Granashi," and finally, onto the lap of the young hunter.
