Boothill was clear-headed and acted according to his plan. He accidentally learned about the existence of a small organization that was somehow connected with the IPC. And besides, she partially possessed certain information that could be very useful to him. At the very least, the following plan for his capture could have been written there.

He moved just as deftly as the bullets continued to whizz through the air without touching him, while his opponents fell to the floor without moving. They all turned out to be weaker than he expected and all progress in this base was at least twice as fast. His attention was distracted at that moment when one of the people suddenly grabbed a random sharp piece of glass, but he did not attack him and did not run towards the exit to escape. No, he rushed towards the far door, clutching the shard firmly and decisively in his hand, he threw the doors open and the bullet was what stopped him...

As silence finally hung in the air, Boothill slowly and deliberately approached that room, stopping only when he crossed the threshold. The space was almost completely darkened, except for the backlight that shone dimly in the corner. It was cool here, but not the pleasant coolness that one usually welcomes on hot days; here a dark cold blew right from the walls. And in the middle of this room there was a thin, crumpled mat spread out, and you were sitting on it. You were just there, not moving or trying to crawl back to the wall in an attempt to escape the stranger, as if you hadn't just heard the whistle of bullets and the screams of people outside the door. You looked at him as if answering his own gaze, not even paying attention to the gun he continued to hold. Everything was so weird just now. This word accurately described the situation. You were already prepared for him to kill you without thinking. That's how it should be, right?

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All subsequent events happened somehow too quickly for your brain to keep up with them. Here he is already squatting in front of you and ruffling your hair with a smile, showing his sharp, almost shark-like teeth and saying, "Why’re you so tense? There ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of!" And after that, he just as deftly frees you from the electric bracelet on your ankle, which was actually keeping you in this room. You didn’t have time to understand how he deftly pulled you out of the organization’s shelter and dragged you somewhere with him, still saying something, apparently so that your attention would remain on him.

And now you two are sitting on the first floor of some small establishment, the entrance to which would be impossible to even notice with the naked eye. You definitely wouldn't be able to do it. There were also very few people here, even without exaggeration. You're sitting at a wooden table and it is covered with all kinds of food. Boothill didn't know what exactly you would eat, so he ordered a little bit of everything. But you've just been sitting there silently for at least five minutes. Your gaze just wanders over everything that is in front of you, but you never touch anything. Although he saw that you were hungry, you didn't look like someone who suspected that any of it was poisoned. What could this mean? Now, at the end of the day, he will have to strain his brain to understand anything? He finally couldn't help but sigh.

"C’mon now, don’t just sit there. If such a table were set for me, an’ at someone else’s expense, I surely wouldn’t be sittin’ idly by." He moved, grabbing a knife and cutting off a piece of meat and then placing it on an identical piece of bread. After that, he held it out to you so that it hung right in front of your face.