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

[i]Ker-chop.[/i]

The Dragonslayer cleaved downwards through a Licker, its head, shoulder, and arm flying sideways. Guts exhaled, looking around. It seemed even with the mutual goal of the SE squadron, there were still far too many mutants and undead to deal with. If there was a leader controlling the mutants, or a wizard like Schierke to cast some magnificent spell, this would be a lot easier. Guts was reminded of his early days as he decided to chain his sword back onto his back. These men could probably handle the problem themselves. Or if they couldn't, surely they were smart enough to run into the.... barren snowy wasteland. At the very least they could barricade themselves indoors.

It wasn't Guts' problem whichever way. The Apostle was.

Guts dashed back inside the warehouse, flipping out the repeater bow. It would have just been easier to have gone the other way, he decided, and dashed back downstairs into the metal corridor. He'd find the belly of the beast yet, probably literally when he'd cut it open. It was only a matter of time before it showed itself.