A man in his forties held a telephone in his hand. The dim desk lamp could barely illuminate his beard, which he had not trimmed for several days.
His eyes, hidden in the shadows, reflected a faint glimmer of light. He held the receiver in one hand and slowly raised the other.
A few meters away, someone holding a pistol had already entered the room.
He wore a hood, making his features impossible to see.
"Are you still there?"
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
"Hey?"
The voice coming through the receiver received no response. The man behind the desk swallowed.
He slowly shook his head as if begging for something. When the muzzle rose slightly, he knew the other man was about to fire. He wanted to dodge.
Television often claimed that it was possible to evade a Hot Weapon fired at close range. Some people even insisted that it could really be done, and told others how—
"You don't need to be faster than the bullet. You only need to move faster than the other person can pull the trigger!"
That was the opinion of those irresponsible idiots, who even "successfully" dodged bullets to prove that they were right.
Some people tried it. Every survivor claimed it was true. They simply failed to notice that dead people could not speak. That was all.
He wanted to hide under the desk, but he overestimated his own ability and underestimated the skill of a professional gunman.
The weapon was fitted with a silencer. When it fired, it sounded like someone letting off a string of loud, muffled farts. Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft!
The man was hit three times in the body, with another shot striking above his eye socket. Before he could even scream, he tumbled beneath the desk.
The gunman