Instalar o Steam
Iniciar sessão
|
Idioma
简体中文 (Chinês Simplificado)
繁體中文 (Chinês Tradicional)
日本語 (Japonês)
한국어 (Coreano)
ไทย (Tailandês)
Български (Búlgaro)
Čeština (Checo)
Dansk (Dinamarquês)
Deutsch (Alemão)
English (Inglês)
Español-España (Espanhol de Espanha)
Español-Latinoamérica (Espanhol da América Latina)
Ελληνικά (Grego)
Français (Francês)
Italiano (Italiano)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonésio)
Magyar (Húngaro)
Nederlands (Holandês)
Norsk (Norueguês)
Polski (Polaco)
Português (Brasil)
Română (Romeno)
Русский (Russo)
Suomi (Finlandês)
Svenska (Sueco)
Türkçe (Turco)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamita)
Українська (Ucraniano)
Relatar problema de tradução
Most would call him insane, but that is why the green berets trained him. They saw potential. It wasn't until they learned his methods that they truly realized what a monster they created.
You see, most guys that go tunnel clearing take guns. Not Ben. No, he took knives, clubs, hatchets, sometimes nothing but his bare hands. After a few missions I got a chance to talk to him in the mess. He was wearing his blood stained hat, sunglasses, and combat fatigues, smoking a cigarette and drinking johnny walker black. It was contraband, but you NEVER told Ben what he could and couldn't do.
"I do it out of respect. Respect for the white race. These slant eye'd scum bags don't deserve the mercy of an American made bullet, but the slow torturous death of the hands of an American man!"
In a flash he pulled out his weathered, but razor sharp knife and stopped just short of sticking my gut. "The look in their eyes when I slip this baby into their swollen, rice filled bellies is reason enough. To see the last lights flick off in their heads as they see a real killer work."