[i][b]Guts - Umbrella Siberian Research Facility[/b][/i]

A small torrent of arrows rocketed forward, lodging themselves into a zombie's skull, and the undead collapsed. An ironclad boot stepped over it, as Guts walked further down the corridor. The black swordsman turned a corner, and ascended a flight of stairs, loading a fresh clip of bolts into the repeater. Climbing to the top, he entered a more spacious area, one filled with actual humans. Well, probably human, at least. Outside, Guts could spy a group of soldiers firing strange cannons of some kind at an undead. Obviously, they were a militia sent to deal with these undead, no doubt trying to fend off apostle activity. Guts walked towards the skirmish drawing the Dragonslayer.
Dashing forward, drove the blade in a wide arc, rending apart several zombies in one blow. Swinging through a second wave, he gave a grin. Ripping through weak enemies like this was stress relief, if anything.