A commotion rang out near the urban fringe center as a horde of zombies broke against the barricades.
Crowbars pummeled their bodies.
The hammers bashed their heads.
And the axes cut them in halves.
Melee weapons collided against the zombies, helplessly slaughtering their rotten bodies.
At the heart of the formation stood a man nearly two meters tall. Blood filled his eyes as he scanned the battlefield, smoke pouring from his nose and mouth.
"Garven, you little mink...." he growled, "I will tear your apart the same way I tear through these animals!"
His muscles swelled, ripping the biker outfit apart. The fabric shredded violently, snapping outward as his body surged in strength.
"Boss!"
"The boss has engaged. Everyone, watch out!"
His subordinates scuffled into the rears as he charged into the horde, tearing zombies apart with raw force.
He seized a stone on the side and smashed it hard in front of him. Blood splattered. Limbs burst out.
