"Would Mr. Faolan like a martini whilst he gambles?" Trace
shook his head, before starting to run out the door.
"Yes." The mutant Chemical Zion was indeed here. "My calculations were impeccable." The god of wolves seemed proud of himself as Trace sped towards the stairs. His feet thundered as he rushed down to the ground floor, beholding the hotels casino. A guy in a white shirt with blue vertical stripes and a burgundy blazer touched Trace's shoulder.
The wolf man’s keen eyes stared calmly. “Chemical Zion has no chance.” The being known as Dark Fang grunted. He sprinted out into the glaring sunlight, moving as a lumbering, hulking monster straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster. In a few minutes, Romolus stared down the battle. Trace moved the bulky form towards the battle. One of them seemed to be throwing projectiles at the one who was undoubtedly Chemical Zion.
“Trace, kill the mutant now.”
“Hold up. I’m going to let those guys wear each other out.”
“NO! Attack NOW!!!” Romolus forced the body forwards, and Trace realised he was too close to the battle, and had to attack now. In a moment, a slight push off the ground and he was airborne, his shoulder aiming for Chemical Zion’s ribcage. If he hit, the battle should be over pretty quick.