Novel & Cerita Chainsaw Guy Resident Evil 4

As Rhett landed on his feet, Dan’s hefty apprentices had the fourth Van Helsing on the floor, pinning him beneath their weight and landing random blows to the helpless man whilst they took his weapons from him. Connery opened the boot of the 4WD and hauled out the fifth man, who was tied at wrist and ankle and tightly gagged. “Hello my friend,” he said. The Van Helsing began to fight, and Connery blew out a breath, his muscles straining against his blue coat. “F-k me, he’s strong! No wonder they needed four men to handle him.”

She had already lost hope, she didn’t expect him to help her before he will help his girlfriend anyways. "Shit! Shit!” he screamed "Babe please hold on for a little while, I’m unable to break the door but I will get something right away. Please hold on babe. I’m coming.” He said He looked around as he studied his environment "Where am I gonna get something to break through the door,” he thought "Chainsaw, I saw a chainsaw in that locked room” he whispered to himself "Babe, please hold on, I will go get a chainsaw right away” he yelled

The flames shifted, brighter now. “I will not be used as a weapon,” she continued. “Nor as a reason for loss.” The air thickened. The governing presence returned, heavier than before. “Declarations noted,” it intoned. “Phase four initiates.” Rowan cursed under his breath. “There is always another phase.” The chamber split open at the far end. A figure emerged. Not the Ravager Alpha. Not the Chainbearer. Someone else. He was older. Scarred. His eyes were silvered over, blind yet focused. Threads of light ran beneath his skin like veins.

A thug raised a wooden stick to hit him, but he caught the thug’s arm before he could land the blow and broke it with a crack as though he was breaking a cob of corn. The white bone that shattered pierced the man’s skin directly, and blood splattered before it kept gushing… One would usually need five minutes to finish a cigarette in a calm manner, but Javier was quite hasty as he smoked, taking puff after puff. No one was beating him up anyway, but he was thinking about finishing the cigarette quickly to give Herschel a hand. It would be a waste to throw the cigarette away—it was 80 cents a stick! However, he had not even managed to finish the cigarette by the time the dozen of brazen thugs