mouse only
The city rots under the weight of its own corruption. You don’t walk its streets—you stalk them. Bald, relentless, a ghost in the crosshairs. They call you Mr. Sniper, a title earned in blood and silence. Your rifle isn’t a tool—it’s a judgment. Every breath slows to a whisper; every heartbeat syncs with the trigger. Crime bosses, dirty cops, traitors wearing suits—they all share one mistake: thinking they’re untouchable. You’re the cure. No chatter on the comms. No footprints left behind. Just cold math—wind speed, distance, the final exhale before the bullet claims its truth. Miss, and the city burns. Hit, and it lives another day. The scope doesn’t lie. Neither do you.
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