The moon hides behind the clouds, and the vast mountain wilderness is pitch black, with only a few dim lights flickering. They seem helpless, yet stubbornly illuminating a military camp, faint silhouettes of patrolling squads can be seen. At the entrance of a tent, an armed man carries a rifle on his back, yawns as he walks out, glances around, mutters something, and walks away without noticing the black shadow lurking beneath the tent.
This shadow is Ghost Hand. After the armed man walks away, Ghost Hand quietly breathes a sigh of relief, cautiously surveys the surroundings, and swiftly sneaks toward a single tent ahead, hiding his body in the tent's shadow, silently advancing without alarming anyone.
