"Well, time for plan B." [i]The Frontiersman says to himself, before activating his leftmost arm. What he was planning was risky, but all too possible to be a good plan. His forearm and wrist folded back, and six long, triangular strips unfolded from the hole. Each one was a raven black shade, taking the image of an industrial drill. The arm was imbued with a blue fire, which superheated it - This was his only elemental weapon, aside from the uranium-tipped shotgun shells. Two shells remained in his shotgun. Thankfully, if a beast got too skillful for him, his second trigger would fire all the shells in the gun, allowing JT to start fleeing. [/i]