Infinite Progress Starting from Arasaka

Some things don't weigh much until you put them on a scale, and then even a thousand pounds won't stop them.

Before the Umbrella incident, what's wrong with the chairman embezzling some money? After the incident, in the Western money-driven society, public opinion will surely sympathize with Vera, who was screwed over by an old geezer like Spencer.

"Someone, prepare the car. To the airport, I'm flying to Washington."

Vera picked up the microphone and notified the secretariat, her gaze fixed on the footage captured by the reconnaissance drone as she spoke.

The clothing-shredding pursuer's Nemesis-α parasite had already begun secreting some biochemical substance; it was about to enter 'stage two.'

"Andreyev, prioritize eliminating that mutating B.O.W. My analysis AI model suggests that when dealing with B.O.W.s, it's best to destroy them while they're still humanoid – their head, torso, and the parasite. Allowing them to mutate often means uncontrollable and unknown risks."

Vera couldn't help but micro-manage, using the AI model as an excuse to remind him.

She couldn't stand seeing her subordinates fail to finish off their targets, letting them 'develop.'

"Yes!"

From U.S.F. Mobile Team 4, Andreyev's voice came through the receiver.

Boom, boom, boom, boom—

Explosions continued to sound, and the surrounding blocks seemed to be plunged into a chaotic symphony.

Clang, clang.

The sound of hurried footsteps.

"Hey, miss, your partner is really rich... That thing, is that a drone... Using a drone to carry a bomb... When I was at the U.B.C.S. training base, I heard from the higher-ups that we might be equipped with this new thing for reconnaissance. But you know, after being sent here, the equipment issue was naturally scrapped..."

Cross knocked a zombie that had climbed over the barbed wire fence to the ground with his rifle butt.

"Just call me Jill. Chris, I don't know where he found these Umbrella troops." Jill said, then finished off the zombie's head with a shot.

"Okay, Jill."

Carlos said affirmatively, "I think your friend must have hitched a ride with the California branch. Only the California branch is this loaded."

As they ran, Carlos looked back at the sky at the end of the alley, where thick smoke billowed and explosions continued. Using bomb-carrying drones to slow down those bio-monsters... He already had a premonition of how pathetic pure infantry like him would be on future battlefields.

"Stop looking, we're almost at Raccoon Avenue."

Following Chris's suggestion, Jill and Carlos took shortcuts through alleys, cutting across buildings towards Raccoon Avenue. A zombie dog infected by the T-Virus, which had stopped gnawing on a corpse upon hearing the commotion, raised its head only to have its head blown off by Jill's two shots!

Just then, boom—!

An exceptionally violent explosion erupted from the blocks behind them, deafening and sending a shockwave that pushed them forward. Feeling the vibrations from the ground, Jill and Carlos looked back to see a mushroom cloud of smoke and flames rising, with shattered gravel falling from the sky like a fading drizzle.

"That's intense, that must have been an aerial bomb."

"Damn it!"

On the top floor of a building about a hundred meters from Jill's location, a silver-haired man in a U.B.C.S. tactical jacket irritably brushed off glass shards from his clothes, slamming his fist against the wall.

About fifty meters directly below him, the pursuer, who had shed its restraint suit and inhibitor device and had been mutating and repairing its damaged body half a minute ago, had disappeared.

The street was unrecognizable. The surrounding utility poles and roadside trees had been uprooted. Collapsed buildings, scattered rubble, and overturned vehicles left the scene in disarray, with smoke and dust filling the air.

As if struck heavily by a demolition hammer, the sunken and shattered ground, centered on the blast point, was covered in a radial pattern of dark red, scorched bloodstains, mixed with several black, unidentifiable objects that were burning with a crackling sound.

He picked up his radio, his face grim, and said, "Pursuer-02 has lost all vital signs and is completely dead. S.T.A.R.S. member Jill Valentine is still alive; her backup has arrived."

A corner in the eastern part of Raccoon City.

"What was that noise?"

"Was the city's gas station detonated?"

"Doesn't seem like it. There were gunshots and continuous explosions just now, was that UBCS?"

That explosion, which was particularly piercing and noticeable even amidst the chaos of Raccoon City, caused the fully armed men and women moving through the shadows, against the tide and into the city, to stop and exchange glances.

They were all wearing highly personalized, non-standard black combat uniforms, combat boots, and protective vests of varying protection levels, along with gas masks. On their shoulders was a red and white umbrella-shaped armband.

"Wolf Mother (lupo)?" They all looked at the tall woman leading them.

"..." Wolf Mother, who had lowered her head and was pressing her earpiece, seemingly communicating with her superiors, simply nodded. Then, she looked up and scanned her teammates. Beneath her full-face transparent gas mask, her expression seemed to involuntarily carry worry.

"Everyone, the mission has changed."

She said slowly in a slightly hoarse voice, "The U.S.F. forces from the USA California branch have intervened in Raccoon City. The superiors were vague, but one thing is certain: hostile status."

"It seems our Delta squad has been drawn into a significant high-level corporate conflict this time."

Raccoon City Street.

"Chris, I've reached Raccoon City Street!"

The street's clamor, the toppled and chaotic barbed wire defense line, and the chain-collided police cars and ambulances were like an unmanageable tangle. Jill, who had struggled through the alley, felt increasingly suffocated.

After firing several shots to blow the heads off zombies crawling out of overturned vehicles, she walked onto the street as agreed and waved towards the building at the coordinates Chris had given her.

Soon, she saw a flare shot from the top of a building in response.

A black dot rapidly flew towards Jill's location, and just as Jill let her guard down, bang!

A muffled gunshot, though it didn't hit her, Jill immediately retreated. Carlos pulled her back into cover. "Ah—!" Accompanied by a pained howl, a figure and a firearm fell from the roof of a house across the street, seemingly lifeless.

A tank top and combat vest, the Umbrella logo, it was the same guys who had tried to silence Jill earlier.

"Fuck! They still want to kill me?"

"Jill, use a smoke grenade and head down the street. We've cleared out most of the zombies for you." Chris's hurried voice came through the drone's speaker; he was likely running.

"Okay."

Tightening her shoulder straps, Jill exchanged a look with Carlos. Carlos then deployed the smoke, and they ran towards the direction of the flare.

Bang!!

Bang!!

Muffled gunshots rang out continuously. For the first time, Jill felt so relaxed. All the way from entering Raccoon Avenue, she felt like at least five sniper teams were watching her. Any zombies that emerged from the alleys were instantly headshotted.

"I see you!"

It wasn't the drone's speaker, but a roar from across the intersection.

Jill looked over in surprise. A group of armed personnel, whose gear looked miles better than any troops she'd encountered in Raccoon City, appeared. One figure was waving at her.

"Chris, reconnaissance reports that they've spotted those BOWs in trench coats, and they seem to have had their restrictions lifted. They're about to enter Raccoon Avenue."

"Captain Andreyev told us to avoid them to prevent friendly fire."

This was the conversation Jill and Carlos overheard as they ran over.

BOWs, coming?

"Roar!"

Bang! A concrete wall in a side alley of the street was breached. Even the barbed wire was blown away as a massive, dark green-skinned soldier charged out with a rumble—it was the T-103 Tyrant!

Just as Jill was about to warn them to be careful, whoosh!

A scorching trajectory flew from afar and slammed hard into the Tyrant. The raging explosion fire flickered amidst the torn flesh and bloodstains of the dark green skin.

Chapter 031: Division

Accompanied by the sharp howl of air friction, boom!

An explosion at close range, less than fifteen meters away, the deafening sound almost rendered Jill deaf.

Clink.

"Fuck!"

Grimacing in pain, Jill rolled to avoid the splashing debris and scorching metal fragments.

Whoosh, whoosh! The heat from the explosion, accompanied by a visible shockwave, kicked up a cloud of dust, forcing people to squint.

"Jill, are you okay?" At this moment, Chris finally caught up, pulling Jill to her feet and taking a tactical half-squat position with his gun, shielding her behind him.

Then, he and the man next to him, who had gotten up, his hair messy, beard thick, and a shoulder patch with the red and white Umbrella logo, exchanged a brief nod.

"What's your name?"

"Carlos Oliveira."

As they spoke, the explosion's fire died down, revealing the T-103 Tyrant, almost blown in half and slumped on the ground.

Its entire chest cavity had burst open!

Revealing the wriggling, reddish flesh beneath the dark green skin, along with broken ribs and spine. But the Tyrant wasn't dead yet; it continued to let out a ferocious, coughing roar in Jill's direction.

Screech! Its remaining muscles bulged and tore, spraying blood.

"Again?"

Jill knew this was the nature of BOWs, a 'second phase.' However, the next moment, before she could even warn them, bang, a shot, bang bang!! Two more shots followed.

One shot was a headshot. The high-energy .50 caliber round penetrated its face, blowing off its skull cap. A bloody spray scattered in a fan shape. The remaining half of its lower jaw also didn't escape. The second shot shattered the Tyrant's upper neck and torso, and the third shot destroyed the last connection point of its spine and ribs.

The sound of a pulled pin and ejected safety lever reached Jill. She looked over and saw a U.S.F soldier accompanying Chris throw a grenade with red markings. Whoosh!

The explosive's immediate, astonishing fire and heat ignited the Tyrant's remaining flesh.

It was an aluminum thermite grenade.

"Stop looking, Jill."

Chris patted Jill's shoulder and then pointed at her backpack. "The collected evidence will be picked up by U.S.F specialists later. You should head to our temporary base in the city first and get that bandaged."

"Phew... damn, where did you get that cool gear? It's got that 'future cop' vibe. Are they all from Umbrella?"

Although Chris still hadn't taken off his helmet, the familiar movements and voice made Jill, who had narrowly escaped death and just witnessed the gruesome demise of that damn BOW, feel a rare sense of satisfaction. Her taut nerves relaxed a little, and she managed a rare joke.

Seeing Chris in his dark, full-coverage combat suit, Jill couldn't help but be surprised.

Damn, a heavy ballistic vest with inserted armor plates, a full-face helmet with a professional-grade respiratory filter, an unknown model of night vision goggles, and more. The luminous band on his arm was also full of technological flair, as was the large gun in his hand.

It looked somewhat like a Kalashnikov's work, and somewhat like the U.S. Military's M16 and M4 series firearms, but it was undoubtedly heavier, more angular, possessing a next-generation mechanical beauty. Every line was smooth and elegant, showcasing unparalleled craftsmanship.

Strapped to his side, on his hip and thigh, was a compact yet massive, short-barreled, large-caliber assault shotgun?

"Borrowed it from Russell."

Chris answered directly.

As he spoke, rat-tat-tat-tat! He opened fire continuously. The dull, thunderous sound and muzzle flash made Jill frown, but Chris and the U.S.F. soldiers beside him were already advancing, forming a firing line.

"Roar! Roar!!"

Over there, from the alley that had been smashed open by immense force, the follow-up T-103 Tyrant, which had been thoroughly battered by the self-detonating drone's delaying tactics, emerged menacingly.

Carlos instinctively raised his M4A1 carbine and fired a few shots.

"Alright, UBCS kid, don't bother joining the fray with that 5.56mm water pipe. The low-charge standard rounds for urban rescue operations won't do anything to these B.O.W. bio-weapons; they won't die from a tickle."