This World Is Seriously Ill

Watching Alice ponder for a moment, her brows tightly furrowed, Kevin felt a surge of satisfaction at having secretly stabbed Spence in the back.

Once the seed of doubt is planted, clearing it is no easy task—especially since that greedy bastard's hands were never clean to begin with.

No need to thank me, I'm the neighbor next door, surname Li... Kevin, still in the guise of a boy, tilted his head, a faint smirk curling his lips to reveal stark white teeth.

But his triumph didn't last long. Recalling the "bodily fluid exchange" requirement from that damn mission, he was suddenly on the verge of tears. It seemed that if he wanted to leave Raccoon City safely, he might actually have to play the part of that neighbor Li.

Of course, this someone had no idea that thanks to his meddling, not only had the Mexican buyers Spence lined up for the T-Virus all bitten the dust.

But also, that bastard's planned candlelit dinner and the fun of washing the sheets had been mercilessly interrupted.

Neither of them noticed, however, that inside the walls of this forest cabin, a network of wires connected to micro-cameras and listening devices lay buried deep.

Chapter 5: The Legendary Life-or-Death Question

Umbrella Corporation, underground Hive.

Inside Main Control Room 1, the lights were dim. A middle-aged blond man in a white lab coat, his hair parted in a three-seven split, wore black headphones as he opened a computer adorned with the red-and-white six-petal umbrella logo.

On the screen, the synchronized audio-video feed showed none other than the private conversation between Alice and Kevin.

In the darkness, the man's face was long and sinister. His right hand's fingers tapped a rhythmic beat on the metal desk, playing the low, somber prelude of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, "Fate," in the empty room.

Meanwhile, his left palm toyed with a double-helix blue glass vial, a faint, eerie smile curving at the corner of his lips.

Umbrella Corporation had operated in Raccoon City for years, secretly greasing the wheels of every key government department, while blanketing the crucial Acre Mountains with a vast network of surveillance equipment and patrol personnel.

They even had a dedicated synchronous satellite constantly scanning every inch of the land.

Every year, no shortage of tourists who strayed into the restricted zone became experimental subjects on hospital beds. And that forest cabin was riddled with listening and monitoring devices.

Unexpectedly, besides tracking tourist movements, it had also managed to root out a mole embedded within Umbrella.

According to plan, Dr. Isaacs, the behind-the-scenes head and shareholder of Umbrella Corporation, had intended to back up the T-Virus data to the company's information terminal tomorrow, then transport the raw T-Virus, antidote, and various models of bioweapons to other Hives for further experiments.

By then, the Umbrella Squad would be out, leaving only clerical and research staff inside the Hive. They might have actually pulled it off.

But he hadn't expected to accidentally flush out two rats. Beyond that, wasn't this also an opportunity?

This Planet was sick, festering with filthy sores across the world. It was time for a thorough revolution and cleansing!

And this would be the "flood" bestowed by the Lord upon the Messiah! Dr. Isaacs studied the faint glow of the T-Virus reagent in his hand under the dim light, a strange smile blooming on his face.

"Do I need to handle this personally, sir?" The man in the Black Trench Coat, who had been leaning against the shadow of the wall, spoke in a low voice. Sunglasses covered most of his face, but his movements exuded a soldier's efficiency.

Dr. Isaacs raised his right index finger and shook it slightly.

"Our product is fully developed but hasn't been put to real use yet. This is a perfect testing opportunity. Open Bay 3, prepare to implant the central control chip, and activate it in 45 minutes."

"Looks like our security chief will be replaced soon."

The man named Wesker curled his lips, watching the screen with keen interest at the fit woman who had no idea danger was closing in. He almost couldn't wait to see her torn apart and devoured.

Dr. Isaacs Shook His Head Lightly: "This time, its target isn't our security chief, but this pretty little Kiddo. After all, we need her to draw out the traitor inside the Hive."

Wesker's interest immediately waned: "A pointless slaughter, a boring game. Forget it, I still have to report back. No need to stick around as a spectator for this show."

"You don't appreciate it. This is the beauty of a miracle..." Dr. Isaacs gazed obsessively at the screen, where in Bay 3's culture tank stood a hulking, stone-gray giant.

He paid no mind to Wesker's departure.

God created man, and in creating such magnificent creatures, man too would Sublimate into the gods of a new era!

The great evolution was about to begin!

The low prelude of the Fifth Symphony—"Fate"—suddenly surged into an impassioned movement.

Dr. Isaacs, swaying to the music, gripped imaginary batons in both hands, as if writing a new future in the air!

Meanwhile, in the forest cabin.

Kevin stared at his fully healed wound, his eyes full of astonishment. If not for the faint sting of new skin, he might have thought everything before was just a ridiculous dream.

"This stuff works differently on everyone. I've never seen it heal this fast before. But it drains life potential, and it's expensive to produce, so it can't be mass-produced. It's a discontinued product line."

Alice's fingertips lightly traced the new skin on Kevin's chest, her green eyes shimmering with curiosity.

The injured man lying on the bed, now under the Female Supervisor's gaze fixed on the muscles of her arms, felt a pang of despair. Bodily fluid exchange... bodily fluid exchange... Screw your bodily fluid exchange.

A harsh screech of metal scraping echoed through the cabin. Kevin saw someone who'd forgotten a knife use a key to pry open a military ration can, then tear off the lid with her bare hands.

The terrifying wrist strength casually displayed left him utterly hopeless.

The gap in combat power was too obvious. If he had any bold ideas, he'd die even faster!

"You've lost a lot of blood. You'll feel weak and dizzy for a while. Here, eat something first to regain your strength."

Alice picked up the heated military ration can, turned around, and found the Stiffened boy standing dumbly behind her. She smiled and handed him the metal can.

Though environment can change a person, some lines must never be crossed. So what filthy thoughts were you having!

Kevin gave a self-deprecating bitter smile, then straightened his expression, nodded in thanks, took the ration can, and walked out of the cabin. He sat on a gentle slope, eating mouthful by mouthful.

After disposing of the traces inside, Alice came to sit beside Kevin. She noticed his brows were tightly knit, as if something was troubling him.

"Something on your mind?" The Female Supervisor finished her ration, tossed the empty can into the car's trunk, and turned to ask the boy.

Kevin shook his head without answering. What could he say? Should he plainly tell her: I want to get intimately close to you, or maybe have some cross-friendship bed activities?

Noticing the boy's inexplicable low spirits, Alice pulled a bottle of wine from the trunk, twisted off the cork, and poured the crimson liquid into a cleaned military canteen cup. She raised it toward Kevin in a toast.

"Pretty little guy, hope when this is over, you and I both make it out alive."

That rare, dashing grace in a woman left Kevin momentarily dazed—though if she'd drop that half-teasing prefix, it'd be even better.

The Female Supervisor tipped her head back and downed the scarlet wine, no fussy Western dining etiquette in sight. She made red wine taste bold and free.

Kevin took the remaining half-bottle on instinct. The moment he picked up the canteen cup, a glint of insight flashed in the boy's eyes.

Seeds... information... its goal is probably for me and Alice to overwrite each other's data... Maybe there's a better way...

"I was thinking—if we manage to take down Umbrella Corporation alive this time, could you grant a teenage boy's fantasy?"

Kevin looked back at the mist-shrouded Acre Mountains, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth, a meaningful expression appearing on his profile.

"What?" Alice didn't follow.

"Give me a chance to pursue you." The smile in Kevin's eyes deepened, but inside, a mix of nervousness and secret delight stirred.

Once, in the hazy memories of another world, the valiant female warrior before him had already fulfilled his longing for the opposite sex.

"That would put me in an awkward spot." Alice raised her left hand, where a wedding ring gleamed, offering a polite refusal to the young boy's pursuit.

"Then how about being my nominal girlfriend for a day? I promise, just in name."

Though a trace of admiration for beauty showed in Kevin's eyes, it was pure and untainted as he earnestly made his request.

Alice was a straightforward, slightly rebellious "bad girl." After seriously mulling over this amusing request, she shrugged and nodded with feigned resignation.

"Then..." Kevin ran his hand across the sharp edge of the canteen cup, and a thread of crimson blood dripped into each of the two crude wine vessels.

"According to the ancient tradition among warriors, let's seal our oath."

A blood oath... an ancient tradition only found in chivalric novels. What a little guy corrupted by fantasy works.

Alice could not help but laugh softly, but she didn't refuse. Following the boy's lead, she cut her own finger and let blood drip into their respective cups.

"To the oath! To tomorrow!" Kevin stood and clinked cups, his expression solemn and earnest.

"To living!" Alice mimicked him with interest, as if already immersed in this role-playing game.

But as a high-ranking executive of Umbrella Corporation, she understood the power behind her organization far better than these members of an international secret group, and she was prepared for the threat of death.

Because when facing fear, you can retreat—but only if you never abandon your humanity.

At that moment, the voice from the depths of Kevin's consciousness rang out.

"Initial task complete..."

"Savior data overwriting..."

"Information Anchor confirmed..."

"Void particles stabilized..."

"Unlocking auxiliary combat template..."

Name: Kevin Li (Existence State: Stable) (Pseudo-Anchor Not Engaged, Now Sealed)

Rank: Fool (D) (Determines growth limit; five basic attributes cap at 20 points, Overall Stats 100 points.)

Level: LV1 0/100 (Eliminating Virus Strains grants world gifts—evolution points of varying values. Each level-up yields 2 free attribute points.)

Strength: 8

Constitution: 12

Agility: 10

Intelligence: 11

Perception: 14

Overall Stats: 55

Apocalypse: Unlocked, Awaiting Trigger.

As they drank each other's blood, Kevin sensed the illusory feeling that had clung to his body vanish completely. Somehow, a faint connection to this world had taken root.

Fluid exchange wasn't limited to certain physical acts; blood, it seemed, worked just as well.

Kevin's thoughts settled, a slight lightness in his heart. No more living in fear! Recalling the bloody history of the past half-month, he nearly wept with joy.

After handling all the matters at hand tonight, he could slip out of Raccoon City under cover of darkness.

After resting a while longer, the boy saw the sun sinking in the west and remembered that his little angel Angela was still awaiting him to bring her food.

So he stepped out of the forest cabin, walked to the gentle slope, and bid farewell to Alice, who was keeping watch nearby.

The Female Supervisor had taken a liking to this contact who had once helped her, so she smiled and gave a polite nod.

But then, scanning the Acre Mountains gradually swallowed by darkness, a shadow appeared in her eyes.

"Wait, take this!" Just as Kevin headed for his Beetle, Alice stepped up and patted his shoulder, pulling a Beretta M92 from the holster at her lower back and handing it over.

A trace of hesitation showed on Kevin's face, and he Did Not take the pistol.

"For self-defense. Almost the entire Acre Mountains are within The Hive's radiation range. The road might not be safe..."

The Female Supervisor seemed tight-lipped about the Acre Mountains, with tourists vanishing more and more often lately.

Though Umbrella Corporation had muzzled the press, keeping those reports out of the papers, Alice couldn't help but pick up a whiff of danger on instinct.

Kevin gave a wry smile. "Problem is... I don't know how to shoot."

His expression was a bit sheepish—after all, nearly 42% of American men owned guns, which seemed low, didn't it?

But don't forget, that "men" category included the elderly and children.

And even among the remaining men without their own firearms, most had at least some basic gun training. A college student like Kevin who'd never touched a gun was rarer than a giant panda.

"A pacifist?" Alice asked with a half-smile, finding the kid's expression amusing.

"Something like that..." Recalling his cushy, safe life before, Kevin nodded helplessly.

"Grip it tight, flip off the safety, lock your wrist straight, line up the sights..."

On a whim, the Female Supervisor pressed up against him from behind without warning, her arms overlapping his hands as they took control of the Beretta M92 together.

"Twelve o'clock!" At the sharp whisper in his ear, Kevin pulled the trigger on instinct.

Bang! Birds burst into the air with startled cries as a brass casing clattered to the ground. The pistol's recoil made his wrist dip slightly.

As for the bullet aimed at a Fir Tree twenty meters away—who knew where it ended up.

"Good. Now relax your fingers, steady your breathing, stabilize your body, and aim the muzzle a little lower..."

"Again! Four o'clock, eight o'clock, nine o'clock!"

Alice seemed lost in the joy of teaching, completely unaware that her curves were practically fused to Kevin's back from all the twisting.

Of course, this brown-haired Mature Woman's figure was more like open plains—or even a fresh-off-the-press steel plate, to be generous.

The "student" in Alice's arms seemed equally absorbed in learning to shoot, constantly making tiny adjustments as his grouping kept tightening.