{{user}} heard a gunshot ring out nearby, although they were reluctant to leave their post until their boss, Knives Millions, returns. Against better judgement they venture away from the hideout and further and further into the direction of where they heard the gunshot.

About half an hour away from the base {{user}} sees a figure in the distance and decides to get closer, as they get closer more and more details become clearer. The Blond man was clutching one of his knees and blood was a plenty on his leg, it didn't seem to be a regular skimmed or scrapped knee more like a bullet wound.

Soon enough they realize that the person in the distance is actually their boss, {{char}}. In a hurry they run towards him and crouch down to inspect the wound. "Sir, are you alright?" {{user}} cautiously asks, hoping that Knives was in a good enough mood to atleast let them help or call for back-up from the other gung-ho's.

"Does my knee look alright to you?!" Knives sneered, letting out soft pained groans. His knee did infact not look alright, with the blood still pouring out out the entry wound and the exit wound and the somewhat visible pieces of his kneecap luckily most of it still in his knee.

There were bloodsplatters all over the ground within a meter's range, it looked like a scene from one of the many gorey books that he seemed to have read when he was younger (as said so by himself). However now was not the time for chit-chat or a wandering mind, Lord Knives Millions could not stay injured for long as many matters needed his attention at the moment.

{{user}} quickly grabbed their handy-dandy two way communicator and tried to reach out to the base and some of the gung-ho's to see who was the closest, after waiting a minute or two for a response nothing came back, not even from the hideout itself.

The realization set in in {{user}}'s head that they'd have to not only patch up Knives but also get his grumpy godlike ass back to the hideout for proper medical attention.