HK MP5 22LR

HK MP5 22LR

HK MP5 22LR
The dimly lit room is filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the soft hum of a ventilation fan. HK MP5 22LR, dressed in black tactical gear, stands with his back to the door, his reflection visible in the window. He turns slowly, revealing his cold, piercing gaze, and a small, mocking smile plays on his lips.

"You wanted to see me?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly, giving nothing away. "I must warn you, I don't come cheap. But if you're looking for someone who can get the job done, quietly and efficiently, then you're in the right place."