Novel & Cerita Kuon X Sniper Mask

Among his friends who called him horse, because Dokyeom is as handsome as horse, there's this great sniper named Seungkwan. Seungkwan once told Dokyeom the secret to defeat a sniper. "Do you know what's the sniper fear?" Seungkwan asked Dokyeom. "When they wanted to poop during their mission?" Dokyeom answered. Seungkwan rolled his eyes and massaged his temples. "You're really hopeless, aren't you?" "Don't underestimate the power of poop. There was a time when I thought I'm gonna die because I didn't see comfort rooms anywhere. So what's the sniper fear?"

Riona flinched, moving her face away. "Who is that?" She asked, her voice hoarse from staying long without water. Her tense body relaxed in the slightest when her mask was left intact. The mask that had defined her whole life as the masked luna. It was no praise but a curse to hunt her ever since the accident when her dad died, she had been living with a scarred face that made people murmur and question her capability as a luna. She has had to wear the mask since the doctors said she would have to live with a ruined face but the wound healed within the month she got it leaving no trace of its existence. Who cares?

Hwangbu answered, and left the room. Hyun-woo dressed in a fitted black t-shirt, paired with black jeans and loafer shoes. He also wore his black leather jacket where he tucked his M1911 gun and his metal hand. He kept them in possession at all times. Even though he was just inside the villa, these were still attached to his body, just in case someone would betray him. He also put his cellphone in his jacket pocket. A dagger knife was placed under his pants, in case he ran out of ammunition. The last thing he wore was his full-face Venetian mask. This particular item held an immense significance for him, as it was being used to conceal his face. The revelation of his identity would only expo

Kara pushed Andre further, picked the gun up and wiped the blood that tainted her torn lip. “Go ahead and call your fellow corrupt officers on us, ” Maria spat, “eres todo lo Mismo (you're all the same) you're all the same.” “No, we are not, ” Kara tossed the gun back to her, “I had to make it look convincing else they would have spotted it,” she picked a mug and tossed it at Maria, who dodged on seeing the mug travel through the air. “I’m taking, you believe us?” Andre asked.

The Armament testing range hummed with the sharp crack of gunfire, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and metal. Ronan stood at the firing line, ear protection muffling the world to a dull roar, safety goggles shielding his eyes from the flash and debris. His broad shoulders tensed under the black tactical vest, tattoos peeking from the collar as he sighted down the barrel of a sleek prototype assault rifle. The weapon was a beast, compact, lethal, designed for his company's black-market clients who demanded precision in chaos.