From Arasaka, Infinite Progress

"No wonder she was a genius meant to lead Umbrella's transformation into a weapons conglomerate. The muzzle energy of this gun..."

The remaining half of the B.O.W.'s unrecognizable body was still stuck to the wall. Its head and torso had been blasted with several huge, charred holes by some kind of new weapon. Even the deeply embedded pipes inside the wall had been severely damaged, and exploded gore had splattered across the wall.

The lights flickered on and off.

Along the way, the spiderweb-cracked walls were riddled with bullet holes. The smell of smoke that had yet to fully disperse seemed to linger in the air, while large-caliber shell casings, shattered glass, and bloody chunks of mutated B.O.W.s littered the deck, leaving nowhere to step.

Mixed with the smells of disinfectant, rotting flesh and blood, and burned corpses in the air, it made the woman slightly uncomfortable.

She continued forward, her pointed high heels kicking aside several gleaming brass casings.

"They swept this place clean."

The Asian woman arrived at the underground laboratory's security monitoring room and gave it a quick once-over. Sure enough, not a single surveillance camera was still functional.

That woman, Vera Adelheid's U... no, M.S.F. forces now, had not even left her a sip of soup.

She did not even need to go down and investigate further to know that the other side would never have overlooked the viral samples and documents below.

She had waited at the underground laboratory entrance for quite some time and personally watched the heavily armed M.S.F. soldiers go down. Then gunfire erupted, explosions rang out without stop, and finally, they returned to the surface carrying bags and packages of military-grade sealed metal cases.

Aside from a single-digit number of surviving researchers, they had even forcibly taken Dr. William Birkin's partner, Annette Birkin. During it all, Annette Birkin struggled and cursed unwillingly, seemingly saying she wanted to save Dr. William, who had become a monster. Then she was knocked down with a rifle butt, injected with a sedative, and carried away.

"Tsk, tsk... They really don't know how to treat a woman gently."

Taking out the phone she carried with her, the woman made a call.

"The first target failed. The underground laboratory was emptied by M.S.F. personnel. I got in safely, but the self-destruct sequence has already been activated. I don't have time to go down and search it thoroughly..."

"Just as you expected, that woman deployed more M.S.F. forces after legally separating from Umbrella. Some participated in the rescue, but more were there to demonstrate strength. Umbrella's U.B.C.S. has surrendered as an organized unit, and the clashes between U.S.S. and U.S. special forces have also ceased and shifted under their pressure."

"The second target, Sherry Birkin, should be our only chance."

"Or I could scavenge the corpse. The mutated Dr. William Birkin seems to have been turned into a weapons exhibition by that woman. I can see a large amount of heavy firepower being moved toward the school district... Oh? Raccoon City will be reduced to ashes on the 28th? Fine, I understand."

"Two days will be enough."

After saying that, she hung up. The woman in red took off her researcher's white coat and glanced at the underground laboratory, where the warning lights had gradually gone dark. She returned to the elevator platform, pulled out the grappling gun at her waist, and fired a hook into the tunnel's vaulted ceiling.

The woman in red soared into the air.

All that remained was the empty underground laboratory and the increasingly urgent warning alarms.

At the M.S.F. western outpost, Chris returned to replenish his ammunition, dragging his exhausted body after spending one night and half a day sweeping through the Umbrella Raccoon City Building and the city general hospital.

"Chris Redfield, congratulations. Well done."

That was the greeting he heard the moment he returned to the outpost.

"What?"

Since arriving in Raccoon City on the evening of the 25th, he had thrown himself into combat. Either he was madly fighting zombies or rescuing the remaining evidence of Umbrella's crimes in Raccoon City. After staying up all night, Chris removed his helmet, gulped down bottled water, and stared at them with a puzzled expression.

Why were they all looking at him like that?

Even the survivors, whose faces had been pale and dazed when they were rescued, looked up and offered him heartfelt smiles and thanks.

"Where's Captain Andreyev?"

He looked around as he asked, then tossed down the backpack from his back.

He had found all of these in the offices of various administrators at Umbrella facilities and city emergency facilities.

Just as he had throughout the past night and half day, every time he returned to replenish ammunition or replace a barrel, he always brought back bags full of evidence: proof that they had secretly experimented on living people, proof that they had known beforehand the drinking water was contaminated.

And Chris was practically tireless, deeply invested in this matter and taking pleasure in it. He had never rested, nor had he ever paid attention to anything happening outside.

"The boss led a team out to search for survivors. The Executive changed the mission objectives."

The M.S.F. squad commander at the outpost stepped forward, skillfully took Chris's backpack, weighed it in his hand, and said with a sigh, "Brother Redfield, congratulations. You succeeded. You became a federal hero."

"???"

As Chris grew even more confused, the other man handed him a portable tablet. On it was written:

"Everything Umbrella has done has been declared illegal. Congress has passed sanctions and asset-freeze legislation against Umbrella. Director Vera Adelheid's announcement to reorganize the Umbrella California Branch and the USA region has been legalized!!"

Chris snatched the portable tablet away, sat down on an ammunition crate, and watched the recorded footage of Vera's speech at Capitol Hill. In particular, seeing her recount his experiences before the entire nation—indeed, the entire world—left him with mixed feelings.

Vera had not altered or embellished his actions in any way, but he still felt that something was off.

He just could not say exactly what it was.

And besides, all this discussion and praise—becoming famous like this had absolutely not been his intention.

Chris thought of his fallen comrades.

"At least we succeeded, didn't we? Those bastards at the Umbrella Paris Headquarters will pay the price..." He could not hold it back. Whether it was because of exhaustion or because he had lost control over his tear ducts, his eyes somehow grew moist.

Then Chris set the tablet aside and rubbed his eyes, as though that could ease the exhaustion in both body and mind. Two seconds later, he opened his bloodshot eyes, stood up, and continued organizing his equipment while chewing compressed biscuits.

"With enough evidence, both houses of Congress will pass it. You might even be awarded a medal... Hey, where are you going?"

"To continue the mission."

Chris replenished his ammunition, loaded the grenade launcher, slung a light anti-tank rocket launcher over his back, then jumped down from the outpost position and said without looking back:

"I don't trust them. Umbrella might still have a chance to overturn this, and didn't your Director say so herself? Search for and rescue survivors. I'm a former S.T.A.R.S. member. This is my job."

Damn, this guy was practically a god of war.

The M.S.F. outpost squad commander was instantly filled with respect.

This guy was a real man, not some coward propped up by public opinion.

After all, M.S.F. was a private armed force. They strictly followed regulations. They would do their best to save people, but they could not fight without regard for their own safety like Chris.

They were not Trauma Team. Though they could fight continuously for days and nights if necessary, there was no need for it. Rotating rest was what maintained combat effectiveness and effectively prevented casualties.

"Hey, Redfield. Take this. It should help you."

Chris turned around and caught it.

"What is this?" He examined the green-and-white object in his hand, which looked like an asthma inhaler.

"Combat Stimulant Type 1. You can think of it as a variant of a combat stimulant. Experimental stock—it's nowhere near market-ready yet. It can effectively reduce fatigue."

"Thanks."

After accepting it, Chris set out again with the M.S.F. rescue squad that had finished rotating through rest.

The section of Raccoon Avenue connecting to Acre Scenic Avenue in the western part of the city had been cleared again and again. The roads here were open, and the surrounding buildings were square and orderly, making it the best location to establish firepower. An M2 Heavy Machine Gun positioned on a suitable high point was enough to lock down most of the block.

Scattered zombies shuffled over from various alleys, but they posed no real threat. Chris skillfully sidestepped a zombie lunging at him, then blew its head to pieces with one shot.

He ignored the zombies coming from the other directions. The M.S.F. squad operating alongside him efficiently dealt with them.

Along the way, wrecked vehicles, collapsed buildings, mangled corpses, and the remains of the masses of B.O.W.s and mutated bioweapons M.S.F. had killed the night before could still faintly be seen.

They were shattered beyond recognition.

Their bodies were riddled with bullet craters and scorch marks. There were also huge puddle-like masses of black wreckage—The Pursuer, T-103 Tyrants, zombie dogs, skinless-looking Lickers, Hunters resembling green lizards...

"There'll be several rounds of rain tonight. Artificial rainfall mixed with T-Virus inhibitors... The Director moves fast."

"We have to evacuate Raccoon City before the evening of the 27th... The Director... no, we should call her the Executive now. Executive Russell issued the order. At 6 p.m. on the 27th, the military will begin carpet bombing Raccoon City. At 6 a.m. on the 28th, nuclear weapons will be deployed..."

"Heh, it was expected. With Raccoon City in this state, they might as well just nuke it..."

"Tsk. Is North America getting nuked too?"

They passed through side streets and alleys, leaving Raccoon Avenue behind. Along the way, several M.S.F. soldiers exchanged brief but vigilant remarks.

There was not much sorrow in their words over Raccoon City's impending nuclear destruction.

Listening to the words of the comrades he had partnered with all night, Chris, who was leading the way, felt increasingly irritated.

They had no respect whatsoever for their own country, yet they held that Director Vera in extraordinary esteem. He could not help feeling that something about it was wrong.

Umbrella...

Just then, "Hold on, Redfield."

An M.S.F. soldier carrying a communications unit suddenly spoke up, interrupting Chris's thoughts. "A message from Valentine. Do you have a younger sister named Claire?"

"Claire?"

Chris's tone immediately turned anxious. "What happened to her? Where is she?"

"Your sister seems to have come to Raccoon City. We have no idea how she got through the National Guard blockade, but don't worry. The mixed U.B.C.S. rescue squad with Jill Valentine and Carlos encountered her on Central Street in the south. One of our elite units is also operating nearby."

Meanwhile.

"Claire? Why did you come to Raccoon City?!"

"I came to find my brother... Sister Valentine, is that really you? He hasn't contacted me for almost two months. I was so worried. Do you know where he is?"

On Central Street, at the Raccoon City Police Department, this unusual reunion broke the oppressive atmosphere of the station.

Jill, now dressed in M.S.F. gear, removed her mask and helmet amid the tense vigilance of the police officers and survivors, rubbing her forehead in annoyance.

Before her stood a young woman with long brownish-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail. She was pretty, dressed in a white shirt, red jacket, jeans, and high-top combat boots. Dust stained both her clothes and face, making her look travel-worn.

She was Chris's twin sister, Claire.

"At a time like this, what were you thinking, coming to Raccoon City alone as a college student?!"

Raccoon City Settled ### At the Raccoon City Police Department, this strange reunion drew the attention of every survivor.

Gunfire and artillery still rang out beyond the barricades, while in the corners—and even in some sealed rooms within the station—the low growls of zombies feeding and the sounds of sharp teeth tearing into flesh could still be heard.

"Sister Valentine, if you're here, where is my brother? After I saw the news about Raccoon City coming out of California on the night of the 25th, I rushed here overnight. I didn't expect the situation to have deteriorated this badly."

Claire's voice was both urgent and anxious.

The Redfield siblings had lost their parents at a young age and grown up relying on each other. Chris had been like a father to her, and the siblings had always been extremely close. Chris had been out of contact for over two months. She had been worried sick.

"You came after seeing the news?!"

Jill frowned. She knew about Chris's sister. Put nicely, she was brave; put bluntly, she had a death wish. The news released on the 25th had headlines like "Virulent Infectious Disease," "Cannibal Disease," and "Biological Virus Leak." Which normal person would not stay far away after reading that?

If anything had happened to Claire, or if she and Chris had not been here, would Chris not have spent the rest of his life drowning in regret?

And Chris too—once he entered mission mode, he completely lost himself in it. He had even forgotten to borrow a phone and let Claire know he was safe...

Jill said irritably, "Your brother is fine. He's carrying out a search-and-rescue mission for survivors in the western part of the city."

"That's great!"

Claire immediately breathed a sigh of relief and moved to hug Jill. "Sister Valentine, can I come with you..."

"No."

As she put her helmet back on, Jill answered bluntly, "After I get you out, all of you will immediately go to the National Guard checkpoint outside the city for medical examinations! Raccoon City is extremely dangerous right now. It isn't a place civilians like you should remain."

After saying that, "Marvin." Jill looked toward the police station lobby, where the Black police chief had vaguely become the pillar of support for the officers and surviving civilians. "Long time no see."

"Jill, it really is you."

The Black police chief, Marvin Branagh, was astonished. He had not expected to see Jill again, and judging by her attire, had she joined Umbrella? "You joined Umbrella?" Two months ago, weren't you and S.T.A.R.S. still trying to expose Umbrella?

"Long story short, you need to move out with me immediately. At the latest, the day after tomorrow, according to what Director Russell said, Raccoon City will be subjected to a sterilization bombing. Staying here means waiting to die."

"But... There are still injured civilians in the police detention cells..."

"No buts." Having dealt with the T-Virus for so long, Jill was decisive. "I can't determine whether they've been infected with the T-Virus. Save the living first. There is a vaccine, but it's at the western evacuation point, and we can't get there in time. Can you guarantee they'll make it to the vaccine before they turn? Move!"