The shopkeeper looked down and discovered that his shoelaces really had come loose.
He didn't think much of it. He handed the gun to the acquaintance, then crouched down to fix his laces.
The next instant, a gun barrel pressed against his chin.
"?!" The middle-aged shopkeeper froze, then forced an ugly smile. "What are you doing? This joke isn't funny at all. What if it goes off? Hurry up and put that dangerous thing down."
The person on the other side gave no reaction, merely lowered his head and glanced at the carefully adjusted wristwatch, then said softly, "Goodbye."
Click. The second hand reached the end.
The trigger was pulled.
With a bang, blood burst from the middle-aged shopkeeper's chest. He twitched a few times, then toppled to the ground like the many wild boars he had shot dead before, dying with grievance in his eyes.
A life ebbed away before his eyes.
Vodka rested his fingers against his eyes and sighed silently. Although he had long since seen countless corpses killed by gunshots, and had even helped Brother Gin create quite a few himself... when he thought of the true mastermind behind the death of this unlucky bastard in front of him, he still felt a faint sorrow for his own kind.
"Hm?" Just then, Vodka noticed something strange.
The gunshot in the mountains was extremely piercing. Wild beasts and birds fled in all directions—but for some reason, Chizo Ogura, who was not too far from here, seemed not to have heard anything at all. He was still sitting on the swing, swaying back and forth.
Vodka: "...?"
Not right.
A drug trafficker currently hiding from a police investigation suddenly heard a gunshot nearby—how could he possibly sit there without a care? Even if that guy naively thought