Life has gone by, more than usual it passes by my breath. Shots had been fired and rounds fell off this gun. This old rusty gun which never blast the same again. Its crooked barrel, its misshaped trigger, its damaged bullet hole. The way it would fire another round would be different and make every person think, “that’s not how a gun fires!”. Nevertheless, it still hopes to kill everyone on its path.
He is the man behind that gun. The man who rules it. His firm hand, his steady arm, his solid gaze, and clear vision, they all put up into one deadly breathing killing machine, using even the most broken piece of plastic, he could help The Grimm by all means necessary. Thus, “the man behind the gun”, referring to the very core of gun battle: your intention leads your bullet, no matter how broken its path was going to be, you will make it serve you straight and rightfully answer your purpose.
That purpose he was once had, a single aim, single bullet, and single round to shoot.