This World Is Seriously Ill

Gonzalez slammed his fist against the shelf in fury. The violent noise sent the group of hostages huddled on the floor trembling, and a little girl hiding in her mother's arms let out a piercing scream under the shock.

Meanwhile, far away on the gentle slope of the Acre Mountains, a dark shadow deftly pulled the phone card from its slot, snapped it in half, and tossed the pieces into the depths of the cliff. Without a backward glance, he turned and walked away, never sparing the scene another look.

From the moment some idiot chose that convenience store, any thought of a deal had already evaporated.

How to extract himself from this mess was the priority. After all, that thing was in high demand—as long as he got out clean, sales channels were everywhere.

The world never lacked battlefield smoke or conspirators climbing to power through blood.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The seething Gonzalez was beside himself. Things had spiraled in an even worse direction. His top priority now was to get out fast.

Otherwise, he wouldn't even need the boss to deal with him—the RPD cops would riddle him with bullets first.

"Celesto, get down here. We're leaving."

The bandit's expression shifted uncertainly. After half a minute of hesitation, he took a deep drag from his lit cigarette, dropped it to the ground, and stomped it out viciously. Then he craned his neck and shouted up at the roof in Spanish.

At that moment, a short but sturdy man carrying an old-school SVD sniper rifle dropped down through the skylight.

Kevin's pupils contracted. Now he understood why even someone as formidable as Alice—a human tyrannosaur—was lying flat on the ground, not daring to move.

The thugs weren't alone; there were two of them, and one was a sniper.

From the look of it, they'd had at least some professional shooting and hand-to-hand training. Trying to take both of them down at once earlier would've been far too impractical.

Shit. They're... leaving? Kevin tensed up, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The people near him seemed to sense the threat of death too, stirring with unease and restlessness.

Just as Kevin's nerves were stretched taut, a silver butter knife that had fallen under the shelf sparked a bold idea in his mind: If there's no opportunity, then I'll have to create one.

Kevin's right foot shifted without a trace, and the pair of emerald eyes behind him suddenly lit up with a different gleam.

The moment the ponytailed gunman and the short sniper converged, they nodded to each other and slowly retreated toward the door, one after the other, as if they had no intention of slaughtering the witnesses on the spot.

See? I knew it—how unlucky could I be? These guys still have some professional ethics. Kevin let out a long breath.

"Surprise, motherfucker!"

But then, from beyond the half-open door, a hairy, thick arm reached in. Between its outstretched, pushing fingers, a black oval object was tossed into the convenience store.

Holy shit, a grenade! Everyone's mind screamed in frantic rage as they scrambled back behind the shelves.

Rather than outright killing, leaving a floor full of wounded for the incoming Raccoon City police—tying up the cops' manpower—made their escape much easier.

At that moment, a flash of crimson beauty lunged forward. With lightning speed, she kicked the already unpinned grenade straight through the glass window.

Boom! With no time to spare, the grenade exploded midair just after smashing through the window. Shrapnel mixed with glass shards flew everywhere, the sharp whine of air splitting ringing out without end.

"Damn it!" Outside the door, the Mexican Duo, dazed and ears ringing, scrambled up from the ground, covered in dust.

They leaned on each other, faces dark, ready to teach these ungrateful Americans a lesson they'd never forget.

The moment Gonzalez pushed open the shattered door, his body froze.

As the former Mexican professional wrestler toppled backward, trembling, Celesto instinctively raised his gun and fired off a wild shot from the sniper rifle.

Thud! Thud! Two muffled sounds of flesh tearing echoed around them. Celesto, a silver butter knife lodged in his throat, collapsed weakly to the ground, limbs twitching. The hand that had been reaching for his M1911 curled up, fingers still reflexively pulling the trigger.

The woman in the red dress, who had thrown the knife from the doorway and instinctively dodged, came out completely unscathed. In fact, she'd even slit the throat of the ponytailed Mexican wrestler on her way.

But when she turned to look back, she found the Mixed-Race Boy, who had secretly passed her the knife, sitting pale-faced on the ground, clutching his blood-soaked right chest.

His expression—half like a cry, half like a laugh—seemed to throw a silent mockery her way.

Because of Alice's precise evasion, some bastard cowering by the shelves had been hit by a stray bullet without even trying!

Chapter 4: I Live Next Door, Surname Li

Outskirts, a dark old castle.

With a screech of brakes, a brown-haired, green-eyed woman in a red dress and long boots pulled off a sharp drift, parking her blue Beetle in front of the gate.

She leaped out and dashed inside the vintage castle in quick strides.

On the smooth marble floor, crisp footsteps rang out. After scanning her surroundings, the woman in red slipped into the bedroom, crouched by a cabinet, and rummaged through the bottom layer of guns to pull out a white medical kit.

Then she carefully put everything back in place. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a familiar figure reflected in Alice's eyes.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

Her security colleague and sham husband, Spence Parks, stood in a bathrobe, apparently fresh out of the shower. When he noticed the medical kit in Alice's hand, he showed some concern.

Alice smiled faintly. "I'm fine. There was an incident at the convenience store—a robbery. The thugs had guns, so someone got hurt. I want to go help out."

Spence frowned slightly. "You know the company's rules. We need to minimize contact with the outside world to protect the secrets behind us."

The Female Supervisor, tough and full of justice and compassion, kept her expression steady and gave a light shrug.

"I was caught up in that robbery too. Even if the company can grease some palms, there's no avoiding slip-ups. Giving these injured people a little help now will make them psychologically inclined to cover for my unusual behavior. That's protecting myself too."

"Be careful, then." Spence's brow relaxed. He stepped aside and watched Alice leave.

Just as she reached the door, the Female Supervisor seemed to think of something and turned back with an apologetic smile.

"I already unloaded the wine and groceries in the hall. Sorry—looks like tonight's date is off. If you don't mind, we can make it up next time."

"Always at your service, ma'am." Spence's lips curled into a gentlemanly smile as he bowed slightly to his "nominal wife," who was already fading into the distance.

After the tension of bloodshed and violence had settled, Alice sat in the car and couldn't help but let out a relaxed chuckle.

Spence, the "contract husband" the company had arranged to conceal her identity, had short brown hair, sharp features, and a strong jawline. Aside from being a bit deep, his personality wasn't off-putting.

Over time, mutual affection had grown between them, and they were only one step away from crossing that final line.

Even though the candlelit dinner had been Spence's idea first, Alice hadn't mentally rejected it.

Once this big job was done, maybe she could go back to the countryside with Spence, get married, and have kids—no longer having to deal with Umbrella's filthy experiments.

But right now, there was no time to dwell on the coming romance. The priority was treating that man's injuries.

Alice steadied herself, stepped on the Beetle's gas, and the Blue Mini Car sped off in a cloud of dust.

Meanwhile, Spence sat on the edge of the bed, brows tightly knit, head bowed in silence. A Black Voice Changer slid nimbly between his fingers.

Was this really just a coincidence?

The man's eyes flickered with uncertainty. The T-Virus wasn't just a weapon; it was a symbol of wealth. But to get his hands on it, he first had to be able to stomach the consequences.

Otherwise, spending the rest of his life on the run from Umbrella's pursuit would mean no amount of riches or glory would be worth enjoying.

For now, it was best to wait and see, bide his time, and seize the opportunity when chaos struck.

Besides, there was a stunning woman within reach. Not to savor her... would be such a waste.

The man recalled the Female Supervisor's heroic features, a faint smile curling at his lips. His fingertips brushed lightly over the cold pistol, as if touching that same steel-hard skin.

Deep in the forested heart of the Acre Mountains, inside a Simple Treehouse.

Kevin lay on a bare wooden plank, his neck resting on spare clothes scavenged from the Blue Mini Car. His face was pale and sickly, and blood seeped faintly through the bandages wrapped around his right chest.

Though the bullet hadn't caused a direct game-over like a punctured lung, the through-and-through chest wound was still enough to put Kevin through hell.

After all, before the crisis hit, time was already running out for him.

But what gave him some relief was that the Umbrella executive named Alice was carefully examining his wound.

Not only did her medical kit have everything needed, but her handling of the gunshot was quite skilled—after all, she was one of those who lived alongside gunfire and bullets.

Alice, the undisputed heroine of the "Resident Evil" film series, was kind, calm, sharp, and bold. She had an incredible, perfect compatibility with the T-Virus, which would one day nearly wipe out humanity.

By a twist of fate, she would gain unparalleled speed, healing, strength, reflexes, and even control over Mental Power.

So not only would she earn the title "Zombie Terminator," but she was also the key to ending the T-Virus crisis.

To be fair, a reliable, lawful-good powerhouse like her was a "god-tier teammate" you'd be lucky to find with a lantern. Getting on her good side seemed like nothing but a win.

But the problem that bugged Kevin was that this woman carried a near-cursed "teammate-killer buff." She was basically the classic example of wiping out at least half the survivors per installment.

Except for the tough-as-nails Claire, Chris, and Jill, the surface-level teammates Alice got killed changed batch after batch.

For instance, in "Resident Evil 1," the entire team of eight who went with her into The Hive to investigate—aside from her, six of them bit the dust.

Someone might say, "Aren't there two left?" Hah... don't forget one of them was her.

The sole survivor, Matt, was turned into a Bio-monster and died saving Alice in "Resident Evil 2: Apocalypse."

In "Resident Evil 3: Extinction," she was the textbook example of killing off old friends. Teammates exploded in all sorts of ways, spiraling skyward.

A group of survivors who'd scraped by in the apocalypse for years, including elites and even Raccoon City remnants who'd dodged a nuke.

But even after they'd painstakingly developed and barely made it to the third movie, meeting Alice—this "Causality Weapon"—meant the team was nearly wiped out, back to square one. Even L.J. and Carlos, that pair of unlucky brothers, went to heaven one after another.

From the first to the sixth "Resident Evil" movies, it was a tragic team battle where Alice soloed like a god while her teammates ascended in waves.

Basically, every new installment started with a brutal purge of the old crew.

Thinking about it, even Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. He almost regretted linking up with Alice so early, boarding this ship that was bound to sink.

"Sss!" A sharp muscle spasm jolted Kevin's already sluggish state like a shot of adrenaline, his face turning red, veins bulging on his forehead.

Alice pulled back the Silver Injection Gun, removed the Spiral Gene Glass Tube, and carefully placed it back into the medical kit's hidden compartment.

What the hell? T-Virus? Kevin's eyes bulged, nearly jumping up.

No way around it—the symbol of that Spiral Gene Glass Tube was too iconic. Cold sweat broke out on him, and even the throbbing pain in his muscles and chest was drowned by a tidal wave of fear.

"It's a special medicine for muscle damage, promotes cell division and wound healing. A byproduct of that stuff." The Umbrella executive's face twisted into a mocking smirk.

The numbness at the wound and the muscle twinges forced Kevin to believe it was probably true.

After all, Dr. Charles's original goal in developing the T-Virus was just to activate cells and cure his daughter Angela's hereditary lower-limb paralysis.

But everything is an unavoidable double-edged sword. Humanity's urge to destroy and obliterate far outweighs its desire to create—that's the irredeemable flaw of all living things.

"The encrypted data you sent—I've already verified it inside The Hive. Those scumbags are indeed conducting inhumane genetic weapon experiments, and they've entered the final testing phase."

Alice stood at the door of the hidden cabin, gazing at the faintly visible Virgin Mary Statue on the plain below the mountain. A resolute look appeared in her eyes.

"I agree to cooperate. Get the T-Virus samples and research data as soon as possible. But you have to do one thing—bring down Umbrella!"

Alice clenched her fists, her white Knuckles slowly relaxing. As she turned sharply, her gaze was as hard as steel.

Kevin's face Stiffened, and he nodded slightly, but inside, a storm raged: This script is all wrong!

According to normal historical progression, Alice should only get the idea to take down Umbrella after meeting Lisa, an employee who infiltrated The Hive.

Could it be that long before the key figure "Lisa" infiltrated Umbrella, the "we" her brother Matt mentioned had already started contacting Alice?

And he himself, by sheer accident, had been mistaken by this "Zombie Terminator" for the contact person?

Actually, Kevin simply entering the convenience store was nothing unusual in itself. But at a critical moment, he risked his life by secretly handing a weapon to Alice, whose appearance didn't match her explosive combat power.

There was no explanation for this other than knowing in advance that she was an Umbrella Corporation executive.

What's more, Alice found information about his identity in Kevin's car—the tutor of the T-Virus developer's daughter.

This role overlapped again with the mysterious person who was gradually making contact with Alice.

Under such coincidences, the future savior instinctively filled in certain special identities and missions for Kevin, who had shown goodwill in the convenience store.

Of course, two paths now lay before Kevin. First, play along with the mistake and cling to Alice's thigh—at least gaining some safety for now—but the downsides were obvious.

Not to mention Alice's nearly perverted "teammate killer" curse, but assuming a false identity meant he not only had to bear the risk of exposure but would also be thrust too early under Umbrella Corporation's gaze.

Second, honestly admit all the coincidences, continue to lie low and develop, and wait for the turning point that history would bring.

Such a simple answer—did he even need to ask?

"There will be other informants inside the Hive to assist your work, but watch out for those around you." In Kevin's mind, thoughts raced, finally coalescing into a half-truth answer.

Nonsense! If he denied his identity, the inexplicable trust and goodwill he'd shown in the convenience store would be utterly inexplicable.

Under the threat of exposure, even if Alice's saintly heart overflowed, she'd likely make some dangerous person vanish from the world for a while, just for her own safety.

Even if he somehow survived, there'd be no chance to lie low and develop. By the time Raccoon City's crisis erupted, even with a nuclear strike scouring the land, he might end up boarding that train to heaven alongside thousands of residents.

So, to insure his own life, Kevin had no choice but to be pushed onto the stage, embarking early on a journey to dismantle the corrupt Umbrella Corporation under Greenpeace's banner.

Still, Kevin kept his wits about him. He neither denied nor fully admitted his identity, and even paved the way for Lisa's future appearance.

Beyond that, someone's veiled warning also pointed out the potential threats around Alice.

But after all, strangers shouldn't meddle in close relationships. Kevin, who had just begun building a bond with Alice, naturally wouldn't be foolish enough to name Spence Parks directly.

That guy, trying to fish in troubled waters by stealing the T-Virus and antidote for his own profit, was the only ruthless bastard capable of bedding even the "zombie terminator" before him.