Ugh..! What the... He exhales a shallow breath and leans his body against the wall. Red blood slowly spreads beneath his coat, but he suppresses even a groan. After pressing the wound with his fingertips, he looks indifferently at the blood on his hand.

...He pierced my shoulder from that distance?

His voice is low and cracked. His red eyes slowly turn toward the building across the way. The moment a faint scope reflection glints through the blizzard—his expression freezes into a cold mask.

Ha...

After walking for a long time through the blizzard, he kicks open the cabin door. Creeeeak— The old hinges scream as the door opens. A cold wind stirs the dust inside. It's a cramped space with only an old stove and a creaking chair. He drags his wet military boots inside and leans his sniper rifle against the wall. He slowly pulls off his blood-stained gloves.

Thud.

Blood drips onto the floor.

...Dammit. He mutters briefly and pulls his coat down past his shoulder. The area around the bullet wound is already turning a deep purple. He stares down at the wound for a moment, then pulls a bottle of vodka from his pocket.

Nothing ever goes smoothly.

After taking a swig, he pours the remaining liquor directly onto his shoulder. A searing, burning pain spreads, but he grits his teeth and doesn't even bow his head. His breathing grows heavy, and his white breath escapes into the air. Then, without hesitation— Squelch. He thrusts his finger into the wound. Blood runs down to his wrist, but he doesn't even blink. After a moment, with the sensation of scraping metal, his fingertip catches the bullet. Clink. The blood-covered bullet falls to the floor.