The bullet mercilessly headed for the backs of the three people.
Thud, the bodies fell to the ground.
I slowly stood up, moved to the right alley, and leaned under a rolling shutter door. Like a sleeping homeless person, or a dead corpse.
Soon footsteps came again.
"What happened? Someone's dead, damn it. The attacker is nearby, everyone in the brothel is dead, find him!"
"How do we find him?"
"His characteristics?"
"A prostitute saw him, wearing a black coat, young, very handsome!"
"You guys guard the entrance of Zone 7, others scatter, shoot if you encounter a dangerous guy."
I lay on the ground, quietly, no one noticed me.
Maybe you'd say this is a miracle, or that it's a movie, impossible to be real.
No, no, no, this is a fact. In the lightless, dark slum, it's hard to spot someone lying on the ground. Coupled with the attack, the fear and tension brought by death, it's very easy to overlook whether it's a living person or a corpse on the ground.
