At dusk, the snowy canyon was a vast expanse of white, devoid of any green. Tall tree branches occasionally released snowballs blown off by the wind, producing a rustling sound, adding a touch of vitality to the deathly silent white canyon. In the distance, a person wearing a white cloak moved cautiously forward. After sprinting a short distance, they stopped by a snow pile to observe, their body nearly blending into the snow, with a steel gun held horizontally at shoulder level, exuding a chilling aura of murder. If they hadn't been exposed by their movement, they would have been impossible to detect.
