...
As the effects of the medicine violently manifested, Tate Zackery clutched his head, his expression filled with intense pain and distortion. Suppressing it for so long, his muscles turned a bright red as they bulged, and step by step, he threw punches forward, his voice strained with difficulty, "Head, you, you better run, I'm about to lose control of myself." While his mind still clung to the last shreds of clarity, he used all his tricks to prevent the beast within from breaking out. It was evident that deep in his subconscious, he didn't want to harm Yves King at all.
No sooner had he spoken when a roar thundered through the air, an overwhelming ferocity like a raging sea engulfed the remnants of his sanity. His actions were no longer governed by his mind, and with each punch and kick, he generated a force as unstoppable as Mount Tai bearing down.
