[Interlude: José Luccioni]
His father, him, was no lab assistant. He always preferred the company of weapons to that of chemists, but it was a different life, a different time. The world changes, men too.
The only thing that passes through time without losing of its shine, is gold, and the kid'll tell you. All these little rocks, it's gold.
Why bother thinking that he might miss it by watching him only out of the corner of your eye? Don't be naive. Here, all this, is his hunting ground, and no one is safe from a stray bullet.
Do you know how a driven hunt works? It's very simple: It's donе in groups; trackers accompanied by dogs bring the animal towards killеrs stationed further down. It's as old as the world.
The perimeter between these two groups is clearly a danger zone whether you be the tracker, the shooter, or the dog. So, it's solely up to you not to be there, the hiker or the game, because deep down, a bullet in a hole is never really stray.
Nah, this kid ain't the Devil, he was simply born in a fire lit by his predecessors and came out on a burning tricycle. You don't think that leaves a mark? I've already told you: Stay far away. His comfort zone, is your danger zone.