Night Wandering Ghost Camp.
Bang!
A dark grey bionic arm punched a solid steel punching bag so hard it deformed and flew into the air.
The chunk of iron flew up then fell back down; the man dodged sideways before throwing another punch, as if he were in a boxing match.
One punch, two punches, three punches—
Boom!
The accumulated kinetic energy snapped the iron chain, sending the bag flying high and smashing into a cement plant's steel pillar, the sound echoing throughout the facility.
"Too bad, those Wanderers are quite formidable. We can't play the long game anymore."
Bowen, nearly two meters tall with a blue Mohawk.
Both of his arms had been modified, customized with top-notch bionic fibers, and integrated with micro fuel engines and bioelectric motor systems, evenly and sensibly distributed throughout his arms.
Truly, when these arms got serious, punching through bulletproof steel plates wasn't out of the question—
