Otis shrugged at Zomura's comment on the Irishman, and said, "Whatever you say, babe." He gave a hearty laugh after his words. He held his firearm in one hand, pointed towards the ceiling. "But I'll follow you, boss. For now. Till the army shows up." He said.

His attention was suddenly diverted towards the display of cutlery on the wall. Something that piqued his interest was the kukri knife. "Ohhh?" He grinned mischievously as he took it from the wall. He let his firearm hang by the sling as he unsheathed the knife. It was as beautiful and sharp as ever and he took an instant liking to it. He sheathed it and attached it to his field load carrier. He looked exactly the way he thought he looked; like a partisan fighter.

"I would say I feel badass, but I always feel badass." He picked up his gun in hand, and followed behind Zomura, turning and walking backwards out of the armory. "Let's leave Sean, his name, yes? Here, in the compound. He can do administrative work or something, like cleaning and cooking. It's safer. We don't need more zombies to fight."