Progressing from Arasaka

Leaning against the Humvee, Brad glanced with emotion at the military transport planes that landed before and after the CEO of the military science company's private jet.

Before the special plane arrived, a team of fully armed Militech Security equipped with exoskeletons scouted the location and landed.

Beside them were several large metal lumps— Drone Mechs.

It is about the height of two people, with thick upper limbs and multi-legged, tracked lower limbs like a spider.

Its back is made up of a huge circular tank, its shoulders are rocket launchers, and its protruding sharp upper limbs have rotary machine guns embedded in their centers. They stand side by side, closely attached to each other on the armor.

The generals and soldiers nearby frequently glanced at him.

In terms of military appearance, their regular army seems to be less presentable than this military contractor.

"I can understand. Given the current turbulent world situation, there are probably just as many people who want to kidnap her as those who want to assassinate or kidnap the president."

With his arms crossed over his chest, Chris said, his thick, matte black hand on his right arm standing out conspicuously.

"That's true. If you kidnap her, you'll have money, a house... everything."

At that moment, click, as black-clad bodyguards, armed guards, and executives and employees of the military sales department descended the stairs, tap, tap, a woman with light blonde hair stepped out of the cabin under the slightly scorching Afghanistan sun.

She appeared to be in her early twenties, tall and well-proportioned, bright and beautiful, but her stern demeanor and the beige military uniform with gold trim overshadowed the liveliness and sensuality that should be present in someone her age.

"Afghanistan."

Vera reached out and lightly touched the warm handrail of the gangway under the sunlight. She looked up and her gaze went beyond the high walls and barbed wire at the edge of the US military base. Mountains, mountains, and more mountains.

The mountains are barren and there is no water.

"It's a pity there's no oil. That's about it in terms of resource abundance; it's not as good as Iraq."

Oil is more than just an energy source.

With just one glance, Vera extinguished the idea of investing in Afghanistan.

Let's wait for the Iraq War in 2003.

Then Vera walked down the gangway somewhat listlessly, her hard-soled high heels clicking crisply on the metal steps.

"General."

Vera made her move.

"Ms. Russell."

Army General forward and shook hands with Vera.

"On behalf of the young men, I thank you for your efforts, madam."

The general, whose features were quite ruddy, said, "Of course, it would be even better if your company could make prosthetics and limbs more widely available."

"Of course, that's why I came here. Win-win cooperation promotes positive development."

Vera smiled gracefully.

"I believe that in a few years, with the Restorative Prosthetic Technology, new process upgrades and breakthroughs in Materials Science will further reduce costs. By then, the United States will say goodbye to the disabled. I think this is one of the missions God has given me in this life."

Let's finalize the military procurement orders you drew up for me first. How about we talk about Drone Mechs? As long as the orders are in place, the widespread adoption of complete prosthetics is no problem.

Prosthetics are for people with disabilities to complete their limbs and organs; they are not artificial bodies and do not enhance or amplify tactical or functional abilities.

The general naturally understood Vera's pedantic subtext, but he didn't pay it any mind.

It's a capitalist country, so it's normal.

As long as the military science department can uphold its integrity and not provide counterfeit or substandard products, it will be a victory in the military procurement order.

"Please."

The general gestured for her to proceed, saying, "It's already noon. We can postpone the weapons demonstration until the afternoon. I'm sure the soldiers' menu will be a novel experience for Ms. Russell."

Pointing to the military missile components being loaded and unloaded on another runway, he said in a rather friendly manner.

"I'd be honored to accept your offer, so... I'll take my leave then."

As soon as she finished speaking, Vera's gaze immediately turned to the direction of the BSAA Organization's flag. Her eyes lit up, a joyful smile appeared on her lips, and after salutating the general, she walked over there.

Everyone around looked puzzled.

Chris from BSAA?

His background, and the rumors I'd heard long ago.

Because of his image as a lone hero who ventured deep into the enemy's lair, and his ability to persuade Vera Adelheid to set things right by appealing to her emotions and reasoning with her, he was admired.

She was critically injured and on the verge of death during an operation, but was saved by Vera Adelheid using various laboratory-grade prototype prosthetics at great expense.

Even a four-star general couldn't resist following along.

Although upon closer inspection, it's clear that such a situation is unlikely, but there's still some juicy gossip to be had.

"Hey, Chris, look..."

As Brad nudged Chris with his elbow and made a face at him, Jill kicked him in the butt and sent him flying.

"Get out of here, Brad, you bastard."

Jill subtly gave him the middle finger.

"Call..."

As Vera approached, Jill's heart calmed down.

She trusted Chris's character, Vera Adelheid was known for her detachment from emotions; how could such a rational person do such a thing?

She believes it is more of an appreciation and friendship.

"Hey, Mr. Redfield, long time no see. How about we grab a bite to eat together?"

Vera stretched out her hand in an inviting gesture.

Anti-biohazard hero, Medal of Valor recipient, BSAA ace, America's first cybernetically enhanced human, modern-day RoboCop... Chris's resolute and tough face immediately revealed an indescribable bitterness.

Well...

The creditors have arrived.

Haha, I forgot that August 2nd is my birthday. This afternoon, some of my buddies picked me up to go out for dinner. It was a little late, but it's okay. I slept well, and tomorrow is my day off.

Well, the Resident Evil arc will end soon. Some readers have suggested that it lacks slice-of-life content, which is true. Perhaps we should write some lighthearted, everyday scenes to showcase the protagonist's humanity and emotions (without romance).

~~~~~

137

Chapter 137 Ms. Vera Adelheid, we love you!

Central Asia, Afghanistan.

Bagram Air Base.

The place was bustling with noise.

The upbeat and cheerful USA military band "Army Forward" played through the loudspeakers in the semi-open-air sergeant's mess hall.

Under the sunshade, in the senior officers' dining area closest to the interior with the most open view, Vera rested her chin on her hand, her index finger gently stroking the table, watching with great interest the honor guard performing a fancy rifle drill in the temporary area below the stage.

Click, click.

"Ready to fire!"

At the command of the team leader, the soldiers carrying M1 Garand Rifle raised their rifles to their shoulders.

The gun handling movements were very flashy, and the crisp sound of the empty chamber being operated was also very rhythmic. The two teams of soldiers stood facing each other, collectively throwing their guns to exchange them. The leader walked through the middle, almost grazing the unsharpened bayonet. Then came a series of complex actions such as thrusting, turning, and throwing the gun.

Well, fancy gun handling is one of the few positive aspects of military culture in the USA.

Although military training has no practical significance and is very tedious, it is not all about preparing for combat. Some procedural training is also very necessary.

Folding blankets into neat squares, polishing leather shoes until they shine, folding hotel-style bed sheets into sharp corners—the methods differ, but the starting point is the same: to eliminate a lax and undisciplined work style and strengthen discipline by adhering to orders.

Swoosh, swoosh.

The USA soldiers in the audience cheered, jeered, and whistled.

Some even made a megaphone shape with their hands and shouted in this direction.

"Vera, your Militech is excellent! It's far superior to that trash from those bitches!"

"Wow! You brilliant CEO, please come again soon. Ram will always welcome you!"

"Adelheid, thank you for your contributions to prosthetic technology, we love you!"

Okay, still very laid-back.

Free Americans, huh?

Even with military discipline training, it's unrealistic to expect them to be as serious and silent as Arasaka or the CCP/ KGB, never uttering a smile.

Moreover, there are extra meals during the celebrations.

The generals at the U. S. Central Command clearly wanted to use Vera's arrival at Bagram Air Base to dampen the spirits of the Afghanistan troops who had suffered heavy losses and to reignite their morale.

On the open ground, outdoor cooking vehicles lined up one after another, and in front of them, even in the open air, were large grills, with red and white meat already laid out on the iron racks amidst the swirling smoke of burning charcoal.

Thinking of this, Vera shook her head, then stood up and waved to the soldiers below the stage who were calling for her.

Whoosh—

The sound wave instantly became even louder.

"The young men were very excited when they heard that Ms. Russell was coming."

The Army General sitting opposite Vera said with a smile.

"I hope I can live up to your expectations."

Vera just smiled.

That's certainly true, given the high level of enthusiasm.

Even the most ordinary soldiers knew that although she was unlikely to bring cheerleaders, dance troupes, or Hollywood stars to visit and entertain the troops, it was certain that she would bring a large amount of aid supplies, medical supplies, and new military equipment.

If the weapons demonstration in the afternoon goes smoothly and the military procurement contract is signed, then a steady stream of cutting-edge equipment from the military science department will arrive.

Due to the failure of the US military's "Operation Boa" some time ago, Resident Evil broke out on the battlefield in Afghanistan. The anti-biological and chemical experts of the BSAA Organization were urgently called up as a fire brigade.

From mid- March 7th to Gekka, the performance of the BSAA operators, their exoskeleton tactical demonstrations, and their equipment levels were all observed and envied by the third-class Army and fourth-class Marines.

With pearls and jade before them, even tiles and stones are hard to compare.

People naturally strive for better things; once you have top-notch talent, who would want to use second-rate talent?

Marines also want to upgrade their equipment; at the very least, they could get the Army's outdated D2a1 Copperhead assault rifles.

The Pentagon officials probably have a lot to consider.

But for the soldiers already on the front lines, who frequently have to venture into the remote and impoverished mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives, their core concern has always been the same—survival.

"Mr. Redfield, how does it compare to the rifle handling skills of the Air Force honor guard?"

Vera turned her head with great interest and asked.

Chris served in the USA Air Force but resigned after arguing with his superiors.

"Good."

After a long pause, Chris managed to utter this sentence. The tall and imposing man stood at the edge of the long table filled with generals, colonels, and senior sergeants, his back straight and his face expressionless the entire time.

He felt uneasy being stared at by a group of superiors with certain meanings in their eyes.

Have you become rusty?

With a calm smile, Vera raised the corners of her mouth and asked.

Chris didn't answer, but simply stood up abruptly, quite straightforwardly, and made a move to go down and demonstrate.

"Sigh..."

Vera tried to stop her.

In response, the military personnel on both sides of the long table, as well as the military science business negotiators brought by Vera, all wore polite smiles.