Night swallowed the shooting range in biting cold.
The lights illuminated the snow-covered ground, trampled and scarred with footprints and scattered shell casings. The air reeked of gunpowder. Now and then, gunshots echoed across the empty field.
The only one who was standing there was Lana, who stood at the firing line, gripping her pistol so tightly her knuckles turned white.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Bullets struck the target without pattern. Some missed, some pierced the center of the target, but none were fired with calm precision. Lana's breathing was ragged, her jaw clenched, while her eyes were burning red with rage that had yet to fade since earlier that day.
Every time Yuki's face flashed through her mind, her finger pulled the trigger harder than before.
BANG!
BANG!
CLICK—!
"FUCK!"
