The Little Prince in the Ossuary

# Overall, San Francisco (10)

The gunfire echoes.

A single shot to the sky announces the start of a public execution.

Winter, when one hand swept through the live ammunition lined up. Grab a magazine with your remaining hand. As your hands overlap, the bullet aligned within your grasp is pushed into your lungs. Five on the first, four on the next. Just push it twice to finish the shovel. It was comparable speed when using the loading tool.

Lower the prepared magazine and start assembling the pistol. His hands were faster than his eyes. Different worlds, different audiences on this side and that side, even out of winter's awareness. Weapon maintenance in limited circumstances was the condition under which technical capabilities could be fully exercised.

Tap. The sound of loaded magazines clogging up. Tuck, tuck, slide, slide.

Soldiers cannot understand the meaning of this overlapping metallic. Really? Already? Some of the pale executioners poured in and saw their executioners. A neat table without any spare parts. A perfectly assembled pistol. He holds it in his right hand, wrapped it around his left hand, and lays it under his belly.

Just the sound of the safeguards loosening. Kirik. The sound of the brawl pulling back.

The subsequent micro-noises caused the death penalty to kick off the game. Their longing for survival made the nerves sound bigger than thunder.

Half of them are sweating cold and combining weapons. My mind is on the table, and I don't care what happens, whatever I hear out there. No, I'm desperate not to pay attention. Or the sense of the outside world is completely cut off.

Apart from the heart, they have pretty good mental strength. How it got crooked.

Winter watches them calmly.

It may be a cruel harassment to wait until the last moment.

But given the nature of this position, a public execution would have been more dramatic. That is, necessity.

The death row inmates were confused. You see a woman holding out her hand on the weapon, clinging to hope. Her determination leads the rest of the way.

To be objective, it had to feel insulting. But where is the capacity to feel such emotions in the middle of the countryside?

‘If so, he wouldn't be the average person. ’

Now, in a dictionary sense, blink. Irregular breathing, gushing heart rate. The rapid blood flow heats and tightens the mind, causing accidental paralysis. It is no different from the tension of the battle situation. It was also why soldiers who had been in combat held hands for hours.

However, it was true that there was a slight increase in the chances of survival.

However…….

The weapon assembly of the dead required a much longer time than was typical. Repeat to miss, spill, drool and repair. It's hard to imagine a tragedy beyond what it looks like.

The repetition of military training is mechanical because even in this situation, it has to be mechanical.

The prisoners from the elite officers seem to have become dull, too. Or never been pregnant. Out of their clumsy gestures, winter read their authority, natures and comfort. In any organization, the people under the sun were more loyal to the basics.

Heave-ho. The sound of someone loading a pistol for the first time since winter.

The main character was also a cold person from the beginning. He looks up at winter after finishing his work with a terrifying immersion. The flames of his brotherly survival were impressive in his eyes.

He was also sly. While the winter was deliberately waiting, he did not point the finished gun straight at it. Or is he convinced he'll die first? If it were winter, he would expect that the shooting speed and aiming speed would be much faster than he did if he had relaxed and assembled much earlier than he did.

‘That's a good point. ’

Winter glances at him. A middle-aged woman staring at this side with sweaty forehead, her coarse hair tangled like icicles for a while. Even the rounded head looked weirder than a joke. Like a monster who resembles people.

The cold death penalty awaits another death penalty. When winter shoots the sacrificial lamb, he'll aim for the gap and pull the trigger.

Even now, this would be a pointless plan if winter turned out to be a whim, but it was also the only possibility a cold death penalty could hope for. Failure will kill you. Therefore, worrying about or fearing failure is meaningless. I felt that way in the eyes of the ugly prisoner.

There's a strange altercation going on in and out of the arena.

The other death row officers who finished assembling in turn also noticed the situation. Those who did not aim for winter immediately embarked on the intention of a man with his head uncovered.

Of course, not everyone was so clever.

“Ahhhh!”

Bang!

A faint smoke rose from the winter muzzle. I wonder how long it will take to get a clear shot.

Captain Fowler said he could handle five on the front line. His assumption is that there are five skilled soldiers who have been trained to be valiant on their bodies.

A prisoner with a hole in his heart drops his rifle from his grasp. Shaking. I squeezed my chest with a painful face, shed a drop of tears, and knelt on my knees with a grumpy horse. Bang. The weight of life falling in my ears. A diagonal collapsed corpse causes a long convulsion.

Winter sweeps through the three medium-sized postures with its eyes.

The time it took for one fool to earn was too short. At this point, the three reflexively reacted without even lifting the gun. Horribly distorted faces. Three guns going down again in conflict and fear. After watching the end, Winter also lowers her gun.

Replacement was resumed.

Now the prisoners know that one sacrifice is inexhaustible.

Seven to go. Combating winter requires simultaneous attack. To the extent that there was no chance of winning. Prisoners stared at each other fiercely in hostility. How effective eye-to-eye communication is. It was just an emotional atmosphere.

A man who occupies half the shares of this replacement, a man with a roughly tangled hair, is forced to grind his teeth. The rest of the free rider hates the enemy. From his point of view, the rest of the prisoners are nothing more than scraps to die for. There would have been fury stolen from his ideas.

All weapons in the arena are complete.

The tension pulls over the silence.

Winter reminded me of the Western Theatre. Just by looking at the map, you're in a gunfight. Fighting each other's reaction speed and sophistication. It should be a tension consistent enough with the general's intentions for this position. It was just a guess of winter all along, but it didn't seem wrong.

‘Even if it isn't, it will be the same. ’

None of the seven prisoners picked up the gun first.

However, the flinching hands were filled with malice to deceive winter and other prisoners. Tricks to deceive you like you're about to shoot. However, it did not work because it was unusual. If you move your hands aloud, you'll be afraid that Kurt Lee will shoot you first.

We have to end this now.

At the moment of his decision, the intention came into practice at the current flow rate. Two gunshots in a row were two shootings in a row. The fearsome death row responded as one. Their ammo is generous, and while it's urgent, the bullets that shoot through the floor pop into a daze.

But in the winter, there is a line of sight. The red warning did not touch the body. Their aim line was coming up a long way down.

Sometimes it is unclear if there is an error rate, but their abilities are not great, so they are meaningless.

Ta-ang! Ta-da!

Death prevails with gunfire. I'll kill every last one of them.

The woman who scratched the automatic pistol as a speaker pierced her glabellar to the back of her head. She's slobbering with blood and bribes like tears. The man next to him, who was screaming, had a bullet in the inside of his throat, a bullet splattered in his skull, and one who tried to fall on the table as a shield, his thigh was revealed, and his artery was severed. I'm struggling to stop the bleeding, but both hands are overwhelming. Winter was short of ammunition to ease the pain.

At the last step, the prisoner begins to blush. His gun was still slanted. In that state, it hardened like a statue.

One of them failed to catch up with the winter's reaction rate by half.

Winter executed the final execution.

Bang!

My head is bent. I lost my strength all over. The condemned man has fallen behind. Knuckles. The sound of a leash of chains on your feet. He died looking up at the cloudy sky from a distance.

Winter puts the gun in the holster and lets go.

Mate, mate, mate. The sound of applause coming from behind. The sender was lieutenant general Sierra. She was a very uplifted face. Every time I clap my hands, I feel excessive force.

The tail goes where the head goes. I've lost a lot of manhood.

Hearing that, winter recalled the reaction rate that had been cooked in the body.

Like TOM's aptitude, was this also natural? A winter that stutters the manuals I read a long time ago in my memory. System calibration is both electrical and chemical, acting as a neural unit. This also increased the actual physical reaction rate.

There's bound to be limits.

‘But I still feel faster than before. ’

Comparisons were past apocalypses.

Is it just because I'm so used to it? Or is it just a mistake?

The Test Ground is cleared up while thinking about it. The only place to verify the second winter was just beginning. It will not be enough to convince their disloyal subordinates and make them believe in the possibilities of a Chinese community in the United States to be created.

Lt. Gen. Sierra Roo is a cold man. He would expect a price he paid.

The unilateral assessment and expectations remind me of someone.

Winter consciously suppressed the rolling stone with the memory of a lifetime.

Leads the incident in a different direction. Something to report back to, for example.

Winter's assessment of Lt. Gen. Sierra will be an important reference for the CIA to develop a strategy in the future. Although it was not appropriate for a man named Kurt Lee, the answers I shared with the general prior to the test would serve as useful information for intelligence agencies.

"Maybe the words of Sierra Leone are just self-fulfilling. But at the moment of speaking, it seemed like he really believed it. Maybe it's because he's unconscious about wanting to be. ’

Then maybe he's a decent guy. It was the conclusion of winter.

Final judgments will be made by the intelligence agency after reviewing the conversation, but Winter comments as field personnel will also be attached to the report.

Winter separated the corpses that were being dragged away with a dry gaze.

There are long bloodstains in the arena. The iron resistance is mixed with the original smell. The blurred light pouring from the pierced ceiling, the cool spring breeze, and the roar of angry birds that came with the smell of blood, were floods of senses that matched the world view.

Artwork Reviews

You have removed some content at # 17: 06 There was an error in the description.

Q. [Chuckles] Kid: It's the old power of writer @ that made Trump come true! The secret of the American presidency is here...!

A. No. Trump had to do it by himself. Accept the reality.