I quickly ran in the direction of the gunshot, feeling a growing sense of tension.
In the forest, rifles didn't work very well since the bullets could be blocked by trees.
But the gunshot had only rung out once, which likely meant it was an execution.
I ran several hundred yards through the dense forest and soon heard the painful groans of a man ahead.
I bent down and carefully moved toward the source of the sound.
Because of my tall stature, it was difficult to avoid making faint noises as I crept through the underbrush.
The injured man, consumed by his pain, didn't notice my approach at all.
Through the leaves, I spotted a mercenary sitting against a large tree without pants on.
He was clutching the area between his legs with both hands, blood seeping through his fingers.
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