Sniper Mask And Kuon Novels & Stories

Target dies…] When the notification popped up, confirming that the man was really dead, Mike let go of his hand. “Huh?” he exclaimed in surprise. The rifle that the sniper had been holding was not actually a real sniper rifle. It was merely a handgun with an aiming scope that did not even fit well together. It was a combination of two different things. [Name: M12] [Type: Firearm] [Rarity: Common] [Damage: Common] [Ammunition: 20 Rounds]

Too bad, that ship had already set sail and got sunk. With that in mind, Kirou didn't forget to check if this newly created weapon meets the criteria for his current quest. Looking at the weapon, he noticed that unlike the rest that was greyed out, the Snake Leather Wired Glove were glowing, signifying that he could equip them as he liked. This made Kirou nod in satisfaction as he would really go nuts if the system banned him from using even this basic wired weapon. Seeing that Kirou was finished with his craft, Bladesmith got up from the couch and went over to Kirou in the forge section. Having arrived, Bladesmith spoke up, "You mind showing me this new toy of yours? It looks like another t

One of the Alpha said, and I smiled. "We have made kevlar vests and ski masks to protect our skulls and vital organs from gunshots. If you are hit in other parts, use your claws to gouge it out and move on." I said, and they nodded with excitement. "So when do we attack?" One of them asked, and Marcus spoke.

She couldn't be in any danger. In fact he had not expected Samantha to react so quickly in such a chaotic situation that she would block in front of him and take bullets for him in such a short period of time. If he was not wrong, the assassin used a barret m82 snipper riffler. It was a long range sniffing weapon that was widely used in many countries. It could be used to attack those rny soldiers who were hiding behind the wall. It's powerful ammunition could even penetrate bricks and concrete, it could easily penetrate human bodies.

Wearing a dark shade of makeup partnered with red lipstick, Mariko looked hot and sexy. She hid her small Kollibri Pistol, the smallest gun in the world, in the holster on her thigh. It was for emergency purposes in case she will get in trouble later. Her necklace with a sword-designed pendant was a real pin that she could use anywhere. Perks of being an agent. Every accessory she have was not just an accessory, but could also use for emergency purposes. In case she needs to fight.

Something needed to change if I couldn’t even protect my own wife. “Pakkun, fokus.” Aleksei brought me back. “Keenan, describe everything.” “The table has been broken. There are multiple bullet holes in them. Two men down on the floor. One has a kitchen knife in his throat, 10 inches. The other had an 8 inch stuck in his forehead.” Aleksei whistled but I ignored it. “Keenan what are they wearing?” “Tactical gear, high end. There are two AK’s and they have undrawn pistols. Helmets and eyewear. Not for night though, for sun.”

In smoky emergencies like this one, Temujin could attach the two tubes to the chin of his mempo mask and loosen the gaiters of his leg to let the open end of the tube dangle near the floor, where there was a supply of precious breathable air. Koumori-shishou, disguised as Pukkitunturri’s blacksmith, had also equipped his suit with a cowl-like piece of dragon scale that was deployable from a collar pocket and didn’t dangle in the back. Salamander emergency cowls had layers of semi-opaque cloth on the visor to reduce the glare of fires. Borrowing the technology of Stork gliding goggles, Koumori-shishou had fitted the eye holes of the cowl with lenses of clear mica instead.

I could hear it pumping hard against my chest like I just ran a thousand miles. Venar glared at me, his hand raising to touch my face. He felt the texture of the skunk mask and hatred began to emanate from his unscathed eye as he struggled to speak. “You..have been wearing a skin mask. You are so full of tricks.” I let out a dark chuckle as I looked down from his bloody face to where my dagger was deeply thrust. Smirking, I dragged the sharp blade through his lungs and ribs, feeling the warm rush of life slipping away.

With a heavy, mechanical clunk, the back of the oven rotated, revealing a vertical rack of blackened steel. ​Assault rifles. Flash-bangs. Ceramic plating. And my favorite—the long-range suppressed "Widow-Maker" sniper rifle that had been my signature during the Paris Purge. ​I stripped the silk robe, standing naked for a fraction of a second in the red light before pulling on a charcoal-gray tactical bodysuit. I cinched the belt, checked the mags, and felt the familiar weight of the "Huntress" settling over my shoulders like a shroud. The baker was dead. Long live the Queen.

It hung in the air like a frozen fog, glittering in the moonlight, beautiful and lethal. "Masks on," I commanded, my voice muffled by the silk-and-leather respirator I had crafted. I watched as Killian pulled his mask into place, his eyes scanning the horizon. Beside him, Marcus and a hand-picked squad of Blackwood warriors moved with a cautious, heavy grace. They were breathing through the serum-soaked filters I’d made from the triplets' hair and the glacier-lily, their chests heaving as their bodies fought the metallic pressure of the atmosphere.