Scoffing slightly at the nuisance this posed, he brandished his blade. In a quick, accurate slice, he cut the arm off the first male, following in combination to lop off his head. As his left side turned to the other two, he whipped out his Colt .45 to use his last two rounds on the other two infected, landing a shot in the woman's right eye and the child's forehead. It was just mundane for him; he had taken on groups of seven or more healthy, highly trained martial artists several a time when he trained under the Yakuza. It seemed to him that his training had paid off after all, despite his qualms with the gang through the years. Swinging his sword to fling off the blood that stained it, he holstered his gun and proceeded to the Walmart with a quickened pace; he now needed that ammo, as his gun's magazine was now empty. Walking through the blood that flowed through the infected that he had just vanquished, he hurried in the direction of his destination.