"True that. Speaking of Jessie Grain, she's much easier to deal with. At the very least... tsk, she seems normal."
"Right, Flossie Wright, no matter how you look at her, she's not normal."
The one with the injured thigh nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile—
Flossie Wright, who was silently walking more than ten meters away, heard the words "not normal," hesitated slightly in her stride, and unconsciously looked through the bushes at the two of them.
The two were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice her at all.
Frowning, Flossie Wright withdrew her gaze, slung the sniper rifle over her shoulder, and continued to leave without a sound.
About a quarter of an hour later, the two of them finally became aware of a strange phenomenon.
"It's been so long, why hasn't Flossie Wright come over?"
The SWAT officer who had been shot in the shoulder shifted his body and couldn't help but frown with confusion.
