The man's head snapped back, a bloody hole appearing between his brows. Red and white matter sprayed from the back of his head, splattering the faces of several people behind him.
His body charged another two steps forward before he collapsed with a thud, his fingers less than a foot from the pot.
The camp fell silent in an instant.
Deathly silent.
Only after several seconds did someone scream, "Murder...!"
The people gathered around recoiled all at once, like a flock of startled sheep.
Someone fell and scrambled backward on hands and feet, terror written all over their face.
Long Ya stood up.
She was short; even standing in the truck bed, she barely rose above its sides.
But the sniper rifle in her hands sent a chill through everyone retreating.
"Get lost," she said.
Just two words, spoken quietly, yet cold as though soaked in ice water.
"Come any closer, and you'll end up like him."
They froze where they stood, unable to advance or retreat.
Auntie Feng squeezed through from behind the crowd, all smiles as she tried to smooth things over. "A misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"
"We're all going to be one family from now on. No need for knives and guns. How unlucky!"
As she spoke, she shot meaningful looks at several people beside her.
Long Ya kept her gun raised.
She glanced at Auntie Feng, her gaze too cold for an eleven-year-old child.
"I don't care about being one family."
She said, "Anyone who touches my things dies."
Auntie Feng finally lost her smile. The corners of her mouth twitched, and she said nothing more.
Just then, two men emerged from deeper in the camp. Without a word, they picked up the corpse and dragged it toward the shipping containers.
Long Ya frowned.
*They