With time ticking closely and defeat becoming more inevitable by the second, Quagmire moved with utmost swiftness and efficiency. The scent of blood and the toil of sweat lingered everywhere. He turned towards the ghouls, raised his right hand, cupped it on his ear, and angled his head slightly down to the right.
The myriads stared in confusion, but a hint of acknowledgement appeared when he pointed to himself and towards the collapsed debris that was blocking their way, to which he then made a fist for a few seconds and then stretched both of his arms and swept them downwards.
The myriads nodded, to which Quagmire too nodded and made a thumbs-up motion with his right hand. He stored his knife back and hid his pistol back into its holster on his hips. Upon finishing, he opened his spatial inventory and grabbed an improvised explosive device and a trigger device.
