The green-haired boy wasn't someone Boris recognized. He looked to be in his late teens, and though his appearance gave off a thugish vibe, it seemed to be nothing more than a costume. That mattered little, however. Because right now, the little punk had his arm locked around Nana's neck while pointing a gun at her head.
"Boris… I'm…"
Sorry. She couldn't voice the word, but the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes showed less fear than regret. Nana was a civilian who never knew combat. Their current situation was more than she could handle, and now her life was at direct risk, and yet…
"Let go of her!"
Boris's arm shot up, only for him to freeze.
"Whoa there! Are you sure you want to be pointing that thing this way?"
