The Speaking Pork Trotter

In the neon of blue and purple, under the thick steel sky, at the forefront of this surge of data, lies the world post-tech revolution.
It's also the dividing line between reality and illusion.
Steel and flesh, past and future.
In this place, the world outside and inside coexist. Everything in front of us feels like a wall of time within reach.
The darkness is slowly creeping in.
But hey, my friend, you gotta know, we can't just counter darkness with softness.
Gotta use fire.

Naming Technique of the Night

Lordbluefire

Carrying a burden was still better than not having it when needed.


An assassin pulled the pin of a smoke grenade and threw it with all his might, but while the grenade was still in the air, it was pierced by a sniper bullet.


The smokescreen agent, which should have burned fully, couldn't function properly after being pierced by the bullet, causing the smoke that should have filled the entire corridor to thin out significantly.


"What kind of shooting skills are these? The opponent is at least 1000 meters away from us, hitting a target as small as a smoke grenade from that distance? And it was even forcefully thrown out? Is it a coincidence?" an assassin asked.


"In battle, don't count on coincidences," 001 said calmly, "How many smoke grenades are left?"


"Don't throw it away; just drop it next to yourself."


As soon as he finished speaking, an assassin immediately pulled the pin of the smoke grenade and placed it beside him.


316, Corridor, and Sniper (Vote for monthly ticket!)_3