She loves this country, so besides defending her homeland, she can do other things to cherish this country.
...
Under the bright moonlight, the cold wind subtly blows.
At the quiet and deserted mountain top, even the sound of insects and birds has seemingly disappeared, giving a peculiar illusion as if the world has hushed.
Flossie Wright leisurely leans against the tree trunk, one of her legs dangling slightly from the trunk while the other rests on the ground. The dense leaves and branches interweave perfectly, hiding her within them.
At her feet, a few birds hang - empty shells shot down and bundled together with vines - their flesh bloodied and mangled, only shy of being blown into bits and pieces.
In her hands, a Type 95 rifle moves as if seeking out the next target.
The moonlight is as clear as water; on a night like this, one doesn't even need night vision goggles to see nearby surroundings.
