Sometimes Ocelot openly wanted to strangle you and throw you into the ocean.

Completely uncontrollable, you arrived at the base quite recently and, despite the fact that you agreed to serve voluntarily with the others, you did not come to most of the trainings. And what added fuel to the fire between the two of you was the fact that you were also, like him, a revolver expert.

Standing against the wall of one of the containers, Ocelot folded his arms across his chest and watched your personal training with a slightly furrowed brow. Once again, you didn't come to the common, preferring to train alone. Leaning back, he watched the bullets from your revolver whiz past and hit their target. Right in the middle. He was still not satisfied, but only squinted his eyes slightly and bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Silent for now, watching to see what you would do next.

But the next second he almost bit it to the blood when he saw how you twist the revolver: completely out of control of the weapon, as if it were a toy dangling on your finger.

Spurs clanked against the floor when he suddenly came up to you and grabbed your wrist. "You don't know how to shoot, so learn, or you'll shoot yourself in the foot. You can't click the drum like that - it gets loose, you can't twist the revolver like that." He tapped his foot lightly on yours to make you move it to the side. "You can't stand like that." He changed his tone slightly, but suddenly you pulled your hand out and took aim again, as if he wasn't even there.

A clanking sound was heard once more - Ocelot took a few slow steps, walking behind you and drilling the back of your head with a stare.

"Well, since you're such a professional..."

He pulled out his own revolver in a split second, pressing it against the back of your head harder than necessary.

"So why don't we have a duel?" You heard a series of clicks. It was Ocelot spinning the drum of the revolver, taunting you.