The Bystander Who Got Caught in the Crossfire

Then, accompanied by the crisp chime of the automatic toaster, soft, delicious slices of bread popped out on their own.

Kevin untied his white apron, spread strawberry jam evenly over the toast, and filled a glass with fresh milk. The fruit salad garnish was not only colorful but also exceptionally appetizing.

With everything ready, the twenty-year-old young man, brimming with domestic charm, gently knocked on Angela's bedroom door.

After a faint rustling sound, the little girl, dressed in a light-blue buttoned school uniform and a white pleated skirt, got up blearily, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

The adorable little klutz stumbled all the way into the bathroom to clean up before breakfast.

Outside the door, Kevin handed her spare items one by one: a toothbrush with toothpaste already squeezed on it, a towel soaked in hot water and wrung dry, and so on. Inside, the sleepy girl was practically burying her little head in the sink.

Although she had enjoyed this five-star service for a month and a half straight, mornings had gradually become less unbearable for Angela, who used to have a bad habit of sleeping in.

By the time Kevin had neatly combed Angela's light-brown short hair, the confusion in her azure eyes had cleared, leaving them bright and pure.

However, the little girl's refreshed face immediately dimmed when her gaze landed on the two empty seats at the dining table. Her pouting lips were full of grievance and dejection.

Kevin crouched down, lightly scraped her nose, and smiled gently.

"Your mentor has important work to finish and really can't get away. But a mysterious package signed for arrived this morning. Let's open it together."

Under the little girl's doubtful yet expectant gaze, Kevin ceremoniously presented the square package hidden beneath the dining table.

Just as Kevin handed Angela a beautiful butterfly knife, the box suddenly shook violently. The girl, already somewhat suspicious and nervous, jumped in fright.

But then a warm hand gently patted her shoulder before grasping the back of her trembling hand. Encouraged by him, the opened butterfly knife lightly sliced through the gift box tied with a bow.

"So cute!" Once the outer cardboard box was removed, the disappointment in Angela's eyes seemed to melt away instantly.

Inside the cylindrical cage, two brown and one dark-brown chubby hamsters stared with round black eyes, curiously sizing up their new home.

"To our little angel Anje, may you be happy, healthy, and joyful every day—From Daddy and Mommy."

The warm greeting card tucked beneath the cage completely evaporated the last trace of resentment in the little girl's heart.

"Then, Your Highness Angel Anje, are you prepared to protect these three subjects within your territory?" Kevin raised his right hand to his chest, bent one knee in a bow, and asked with feigned solemnity.

"Under the Lord's witness, I swear to protect the weak!" The little girl stiffened her pretty face, straightened her back, and made a solemn declaration.

"Enough playing. Eat." Kevin set the hamster cage aside.

Then, he flicked the girl's smooth forehead, pointed at the still-warm breakfast, and put on a stern face, ready to supervise her meal so she would not secretly pour out her milk.

"Wait! Teacher Kevin, your gift!" Angela suddenly remembered something. Holding up her fork, she ground her teeth at him.

"Clever little one..." Kevin folded his arms and smiled helplessly, then nodded toward the side of the little girl's plate. "Didn't you just use it? Girls need to learn how to protect themselves."

"You actually gave a dangerous and evil knife to a lady!" Under Kevin's guidance, the once shy and quiet little girl had become rather articulate as well.

After teasing him a little, she picked up the exquisite butterfly knife again, its outer pattern shaped like angel wings. Her pretty face seemed to show a hint of dissatisfaction.

Yet the care with which she hid it in the secret compartment of her schoolbag clearly betrayed her true feelings.

After stuffing the last piece of bacon-wrapped bread from his plate into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing, Kevin raised his wristwatch and winked at the little girl. "Friendly reminder: thirty minutes until class."

Oh no, Teacher Maggie was on duty today—that stern, rigid lioness from the convent!

Angela's face went pale at once. She immediately sped up her eating, but her good upbringing ensured that even while wolfing down her food, she maintained graceful manners.

After ten frantic minutes of preparation, Kevin locked the door, drove his beloved blue Beetle out of the garage, and carried Angela through the broad, flat roads of Raccoon City.

Fortunately, America's vast land and sparse population made the drive exceptionally convenient. By the time the tiny Beetle reached the school gates, there were still a full ten minutes before class.

"You! Squat down!" Just as Kevin watched the little girl head toward the school gate, Angela suddenly stopped. She turned around, planted her hands on her hips, and pointed at her tutor, her tightly drawn face full of seriousness and icy resolve.

Seeing the seconds tick away and the school bell about to ring, Kevin helplessly raised both hands in surrender before obediently squatting in front of Angela.

The little girl cupped his cheeks, then suddenly lowered her head and pecked Kevin on the forehead.

"Thank you, Teacher Kevin. Consider this a return gift..." The little girl's lips curved into a faint smile. While Kevin stood there stunned, she turned and ran into the school gates, her face blooming with a pure, sweet smile.

That greeting card looked very much like her parents' tone and handwriting, but Angela could tell the subtle differences at a glance.

Besides, given their personalities, the same old stuffed toy every year would have been the unimaginative gift they chose. Only he would carefully select a hamster cage filled with childish charm.

Kevin touched the spot on his forehead where she had kissed him and smiled helplessly.

A month and a half ago, he had only just begun earning the trust of Dr. Charles and his wife. Now, he had gradually become Angela's close tutor and nanny.

Because of her childhood disability, the girl had developed an introverted and quiet personality. Later, under the research of her father, Dr. Charles, the T-Virus capable of awakening her bodily functions and repairing genetic fragments was created.

Although the deficiencies in the girl's physical body had been erased, the longing in her heart for parental affection could not be filled.

Thus, this obedient girl had always seemed quiet and mature, yet lacked the vitality that belonged to a child. Unfortunately, her two helpless parents had never been able to fulfill their responsibility of caring for their daughter's body and mind.

However, when the son of an old friend—gentle, shy, and beloved by children—appeared at Raccoon City University, where Professor Charles taught part-time, Charles gradually entrusted his affection-starved daughter to him.

After all, the progress of viral research in the underground Hive and its various sectors required his expertise, and his wife had been forced to join the research department as well.

Rather than expose his daughter, his "weakness," too much to the Umbrella Corporation, it was better to entrust her to this son of an old friend who had passed inspection.

As for his daughter's safety, leaving aside whether that skinny boy would harbor ill intentions, Angela, who had been injected with the T-Virus, was not as weak as she appeared. She was more than capable of protecting herself.

What was more, the entire Raccoon City was under Umbrella Corporation surveillance. Even if they had not interfered excessively with their daughter's life due to Charles's strong demands...

If that boy made any unusual move, there was no way he could escape the Umbrella Corporation's notice.

However, his mentor from the "History of Biological Evolution" elective probably had no idea that the so-called "son of an old friend" was merely a false memory planted in his mind by some mysterious existence.

And Kevin's secret activities had never stopped. Of course, his target was not Angela, but the Umbrella Corporation he belonged to.

After Kevin safely sent the little girl through the school gates, the blond man at the newspaper stand tugged down the brim of his hat and casually stuffed the periodical in his hand through the glass window.

The Black taxi driver parked by the roadside also crushed out his half-smoked cigarette and tossed it into the trash.

At the same time, the fit Latina woman in a black tracksuit and headphones stopped resting during her morning run and continued onward.

Observer J.D. Salinas, assault team captain James Shed, and female team member Rain Ocampo were all more or less familiar faces by now.

But was it really necessary to deploy an entire Umbrella Corporation assault team just to monitor his interactions with Angela?

Kevin felt deeply helpless. What was more, by sheer coincidence, these people all had connections, large or small, to the future Umbrella Hive crisis.

Trying to use Dr. Charles as an entry point to infiltrate the Umbrella Corporation was nothing but a fool's dream. Kevin returned to the Beetle, rolled up the window, and made his next plans.

It seemed he could only continue searching the areas around Raccoon City and try to find the entrance to The Hive, the underground research facility, as soon as possible. The person whose bodily fluids he needed to exchange should be in the old mansion above The Hive's entrance.

Thinking of that harsh and bizarre condition, Kevin's eye twitched. Trying to bed that mother tyrannosaurus with absurd combat power was practically asking for death.

But if he wanted to escape Raccoon City before the Biohazard Crisis broke out, he would have to brave even mountains of blades and seas of fire.

Today's patrol area was southwest? Kevin glanced at the map marked with pencil circles and symbols, stuffed it back beneath the car seat, turned the key, and started the engine.

There were only three days left until the T-Virus outbreak. After mutating, it would even be able to spread through the air, rapidly infecting the entire world within a few months.

So, if he did not want to spend his future days hanging around with zombies, he had better escape the "warm and welcoming" Raccoon City before something important happened.

The frustrating part was that Kevin could only follow the mission requirements and find key plot characters before he could seemingly obtain this world's "residency permit."

Vaguely, his biological instinct to seek fortune and avoid disaster told him that if he could not find someone within the allotted time, he would face terrible consequences.

Of course, Kevin had not started out with such lofty ideals. He had constantly tried to find ways to leave Raccoon City.

But the moment he reached the outskirts, his heart would suddenly constrict. The terror of feeling his soul and thoughts being stripped away inch by inch was enough to drive anyone mad.

So, like Don Quixote charging at windmills, he could only force himself into it and strive to change this insane world.

As Kevin pondered, the blue Beetle sped along the broad highway, while the steel forest of the city gradually receded behind him.

The lush scenery along the Acre Mountains, refracted through sunlight and thin, hazy mist, blended into dark, oppressive shades, as though some ferocious beast that devoured life lurked in the depths of the mountains.

As a visitor from another world, Kevin's true memories seemed shrouded in thick fog, impossible to see clearly.

He only remembered that this was a false world jointly constructed from games, films, and other media, and he retained a rough impression of the general plot.

But this was not as simple and entertaining as a game. It was so real and vivid. He could feel pain and the threat of death, so no matter what the future held, he wanted to live. That was all.

When the Beetle passed a convenience store, Kevin felt a little thirsty. He parked his beloved car by the road, got out to stretch his limbs, and walked toward a half-open door.

The moment he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the metal bell hanging behind it gave a pleasant chime, while the pothos on the windowsill looked lush and vibrant.

The owner really had a taste for life. Kevin turned his head and spoke with a sigh. "One can of cola, tha—"

But his polite words abruptly caught in his throat. Kevin's Adam's apple bobbed instinctively as he swallowed hard, the smile on his face turning stiff and dry.

"W-What a coincidence. Wrong door, sorry..."

However, just as Kevin was about to turn and leave, a thick, black, cold object pressed firmly against the back of his head. "Get back here. Get down!"

Then, dragged by a burly tattooed man with a ponytail, Kevin lay obediently on the ground with a mournful expression, his hands clasped over his head.

In comparison, the American citizens accustomed to such scenes displayed their harmlessness and obedience with absolutely professional postures.

Of course, it was obvious that the two patrol officers in the corner—one shot through the head, the other through the heart—had greatly improved their professionalism.

He had only stopped to buy a can of cola and ran into a professional armed Convenience Store Robber? Again? Seriously?

It looked like the aftereffects of his own unreasonable existence had flared up again. Kevin bitterly smiled as he lay on the ground.

As a temporal stowaway who had not been fully accepted by this world, he stood out as conspicuously as a husky that had wandered into a pack of wolves.

Until he solved that problem, Kevin's daily life would remain exceptionally colorful.

More specifically, not only did he have E-rank luck, but he also attracted trouble like crazy. At any moment, he could be caught up in a disaster falling from the sky.

In only half a month since arriving in Raccoon City, he had experienced three robberies, seven car accidents, twelve large-scale gang brawls...

Faced with such a terrifying Causality Weapon, even the newly arrived Umbrella Corporation elite squad had always maintained an absolute distance from him. Still, that made it easier for Kevin to act alone.

Yet what was even more infuriating was that this guy's life was tougher than a cockroach's.

After all that, even several staff members secretly assigned by Umbrella had unfortunately ended up in the ICU, while he was somehow still alive and kicking. It was simply unbelievable.

Wait, it could not possibly be that much of a coincidence, could it?

As Kevin lamented his unfortunate fate, he surveyed his surroundings from the corner of his eye and suddenly discovered that beside him was a beautiful woman in a red dress and knee-high boots, with glossy brown short hair and emerald-green eyes.

The Bystander Who Got Caught in the Crossfire

This was... Alice? What a stroke of luck. He had searched everywhere without finding her, only for her to appear without effort.

After confirming it several times, Kevin's lips first curled upward, then twitched slightly. Sure enough, following the protagonist meant danger everywhere.

Her shopping cart was piled with red wine, fruits, vegetables, meat, and other daily necessities. She had clearly just gone out shopping.

Looking around, there was a trembling Latina mother and daughter on the left, a blond young male clerk in an orange work uniform on the right, and behind them, a middle-aged couple and a Black middle-aged woman who had also come shopping.

But because this place was remote, most of the people shopping here were poor residents living on the outskirts of Raccoon City.

Moreover, aside from the Humanoid Tyrannosaurus beside him, whose true identity was a high-ranking Umbrella security executive, there seemed to be no one in the entire convenience store capable of threatening this Convenience Store Robber.

Unfortunately, the "brother" holding the M1911 kept watch over the convenience store from the corner of his eye, and his movements were professional.

Not only that, he even had grenades tucked beneath his trench coat and did not care in the slightest about exposing his face. He was clearly not some petty thief robbing a convenience store.

Judging by his Mexican features, Kevin could not help but guess that they might have accidentally stumbled upon a drug deal.

And given the drug traffickers' usual ferocity, there was an eighty or ninety percent chance they would silence everyone on the spot. His life was hanging by a thread now.

All he could do was hope that the formidable lady beside him would show her power and take care of the robber.

The robber paced back and forth through the convenience store, occasionally checking his phone. As time passed bit by bit, he gradually became agitated.

Damn cops! He had originally come only to meet someone and see whether that thing was really as valuable as they claimed over the phone.

But while resting in the convenience store, he had unexpectedly run into two patrol officers who had entered to buy drinks and breakfast.

His instinctive vigilance had aroused the officers' suspicion, so this contact simply struck first and dealt with the two troublesome cops directly.

Yet the other contact had never appeared. The mission was unfinished, and his tracks had been exposed. He could imagine what awaited him after he returned to the family.

"Bzz... bzz..." Three minutes later, the dull vibration of his phone made the robber immediately approach the doors and windows. After observing the surroundings, he cautiously answered.

"The situation has changed. The meeting is canceled. Also, a friendly reminder: RPD has likely noticed something unusual in this patrol zone. They will arrive in ten minutes. Get out as soon as possible."

The dry tone processed through a voice changer made it impossible to distinguish even the speaker's gender, but the content of the message made the veins on Gonzalez's forehead bulge.

"Fuck you! Where's the location for the next deal?" Gonzalez raised his middle finger at his phone and demanded the contact's next instructions.

Compared to the police, the consequences of returning empty-handed were far more serious. He did not want to become food for hunting dogs or get stuffed into an oil drum, sealed in cement, and sunk into the sea.

However, the only response was the disconnected tone. That person had clearly abandoned the deal.