GTAG Chapter 67: The Hunters
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Executioner, like a child robbed of its toy, stomped angrily toward Hank, determined to reclaim its weapon.
Hank didn't back down. He raised the massive axe and swung it down at the monster.
The Executioner twisted aside. The blade smashed into the ground, the shock of impact rattling the axe so hard that Hank nearly lost his grip.
Silent as ever—perhaps incapable of speech—the Executioner stomped down toward the embedded axe.
Hank yanked it free just in time and swung again.
This time, the Executioner failed to dodge.
The axe bit deep into its shoulder, ripping flesh and crunching bone until the blade stuck halfway into its chest. Blood gushed, organs shredded. By all rights, the creature should have died instantly.
But this was no ordinary beast. Altered through bioweapons research, the Executioner ignored the wound, clutching the axe as if still trying to reclaim it.
Hank gritted his teeth. Letting go wasn't an option.
So he changed tactics. He released the handle, raised his leg high, and stomped down on the buried blade with all his strength.
The axe sank further, plunging entirely into the Executioner's chest.
For the first time, the monster faltered. Its grip slackened, its massive frame collapsing to its knees.
It should have been dead. But Hank's instincts screamed otherwise—the organs were already regenerating. The axe was even being pushed out by the rebuilding flesh.
No hesitation. Hank gripped the handle again and forced the blade downward, splitting the Executioner in half from shoulder to abdomen.
Even then, it wasn't completely gone. Its remaining arm stretched toward Hank in a final, desperate bid to drag him down.
With a roar, Hank swung the axe once more.
The Executioner's head burst like a shattered melon.
Now it was over.
Hank shook the blood from the weapon, slung the towering axe across his back, and left.
The fight hadn't lasted long, but the noise had already drawn the horde. Staying meant getting surrounded.
Even burdened with the enormous weapon, Hank's speed was undiminished. He left the zombies far behind, veering off into the hills while they mindlessly chased his vanished scent down the road.
The countryside, crawling with wild animals, offered him food. That was good enough for now.
Meanwhile, beneath Raccoon City, in Umbrella's hidden facility, alarms flickered across a wall of monitors.
"Reports from three days ago," a researcher said. "Strange mutation cases are appearing worldwide. Unpredictable patterns. Some are human, some animal—even infected zombies have begun to mutate further."
"And?" another voice pressed.
"These anomalies could interfere with our plans."
On the central screen, Hank's battle replayed—his effortless slaughter of the Executioner.
Then the feed shifted. A humanoid creature five meters tall rampaged through the undead, its back lined with three blade-like spines and a long tail—something that looked like a man wearing Godzilla's skin.
Another appeared: bestial, running on all fours, tearing through zombies, animals, and even humans with equal hunger. Everything was prey.
"These specimens may not be products of the T-virus. I recommend capturing them. They might provide… surprises."
Albert Wesker narrowed his eyes. "Deploy the Tyrants. Bring them all in."
"Understood."
The Red Queen's hologram dipped her head. But as her gaze lingered on the recordings, an uncanny, almost human unease stirred within her systems.
Were these creatures truly as simple as Wesker believed?
He dismissed the thought, convinced they were only new viral strains. He could not fathom that they came from another world entirely.
Umbrella moved quickly. Teams of Hunters and Tyrants were dispatched to hunt down the G-virus mutants closest to the cities.
Those in the deep sea or remote wilderness would have to wait. Resources were limited, and while Umbrella had engineered many bioweapons, successful prototypes were rare.
Among them, the Hunters were cheap and reliable.
Standing around a meter and a half tall, they resembled grotesque, oversized frogs.
Not as heavily armored as Tyrants, their speed was their only notable strength.
But for Umbrella's true purpose—hunting humans—they were more than enough.
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