Dixon Garrison's figure drew ever closer.
Even though he was unaware of any unusual presence nearby, he remained cautious as always, preferring to slow down rather than relax his vigilance.
If it weren't for Flossie Wright's extensive experience, erasing all traces that could give them away, their tracks would have been discovered long ago.
Becca Reyes wasn't sure of the opponent's strength, but she anticipated its depth and held her breath in wait, lying motionless on the grassland.
The cold gradually infiltrated her body. Becca Reyes felt her limbs losing sensation.
She didn't know if it was from nervousness or the cold.
Finally—
Dixon Garrison entered their designated range.
"Bang—"
Flossie Wright unexpectedly pulled the trigger in her hand.
This was a rifle.
Within a distance of five hundred meters, regardless of posture and environment, Flossie Wright's accuracy still reached a hundred percent.
There was no chance of error.