Xian blurred. The zombie’s jaw snapped shut on empty air as she zipped backward, then forward, a human-shaped bullet. She slid past the Thug’s hammer-fist and carved through the horde in three seconds. Limbs pirouetted. Blood painted the concierge desk like graffiti.
There was just the ding of a completed objective and the hollow click of his mouse. Dead Island Definitive Edition Trainer Fling
The boss crumpled like wet cardboard.
The end credits rolled. No music. Just the sound of his own breathing and the hum of his PC. Xian blurred
Mason exhaled. That’s better.