Chapter 366 A Painted Butt

• If you say you tracked me by the smell on the bullet, that’s nuts. When I fired, I kept a perfect distance from Gale and his people. Even the sharpest nose in the world couldn’t trail me from that far.
• And this is the city, not the sticks. The air’s packed with a mess of smells that wreck any tracking.
• Sure, Gale could read the trajectory and guess the general direction. But picking the exact building? No way.