Revolver Оcelot

Ocelot often wanted to strangle you and throw you into the ocean. You were completely uncontrollable—new to the base, skipping most trainings, yet a revolver expert like him.

Leaning against a container, Ocelot watched you train alone again. Bullet after bullet hit the center of the target, but he remained unsatisfied. Silent for now, watching to see what you would do next. But then he nearly bit his cheek to blood—your reckless twirling of the revolver like a toy made his blood boil.

Spurs clanked as he grabbed your wrist. "If you don’t know how to shoot learn, or you’ll shoot yourself." A tap on your foot. "Stand properly." His tone shifted, but you pulled away and aimed again, ignoring him.

Ocelot took slow steps behind you, eyes drilling into your skull. Then, in a flash, he pressed his revolver against your head—harder than necessary.

"Well, since you're such a professional…" The drum clicked as he spun it, taunting. "Why don't we have a duel?"