People gasped in shock when Tristan pushed them off his path, or just weaved around them. They would've been even more affronted if they knew Tristan was using them as a cover from the sniper.
He could feel the sniper's aim at him, flickering like a candlelight. The unknown attacker was trailing Tristan with an almost machine-like precision despite all the obstacles in Tristan's way.
Tristan felt him zeroing on himself even though the people. If Tristan just kept using people as a cover, it was a matter of seconds before he would be shot, regardless.
Sadly, there weren't actual crowds on the street, not this late—even in a tourist area like this. The last stretch to the cover of a street turn Tristan had to travel without cover—all two meters of it.
More than enough to be shot.
Tristan cursed inwardly.
