September 17th, 1998, 2:05 PM, Raccoon City Park
"Slander him?" Katherine stared, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "Benjamin isn't like that. He's a kind person."
"Kind?" Eddie let out a short, humorless laugh. "Kindness doesn't pay the bills, Miss Warren. And neither does stealing another man's work." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, confidential hiss. "Listen, I don't care about your crush on him. That's not my business. But he took something that belongs to me. Something I bled for. Now, you can either help me get it back, or I can get it back myself. And I assure you, my methods are far less… pleasant."
Katherine flinched, stung by the veiled threat. She saw the anger in his eyes—a cold, calculated anger that frightened her. The doubt, that small, poisonous seed he had planted, began to sprout. What if it's true?
"What… what happens if… you're right?" she stammered.
"If I'm right," Eddie said, straightening up, "you're buying me a pizza. And burgers. With a large Coke."
She blinked at him, stunned. The sheer banality of his demand was so absurd, so at odds with the gravity of the situation, that it completely destabilized her. A small, involuntary smile touched her lips. "And if you're wrong?"
"If I'm wrong," he replied, his gaze hardening again, "I will apologize to him. And you will never have to see me again."
It was a gamble. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that he had already won.
In a lavish study far from the dust of the park, Ozwell E. Spencer read a report. A thin smile touched his dry lips. The young Cai was playing spy for the mayor, manipulating some naive girl. How quaint. An ambitious puppet, but a puppet nonetheless. Perfect for his purposes. He had no idea that Eddie's every move was a performance, a calculated act to lull him into a false sense of superiority. And he didn't know that on the other side of the world, Alex Wesker was sharpening the knife she would, at the right moment, plunge into his back.
September 17th, 1998, 3:00 PM, The Restaurant
They sat at a table, the food Eddie had demanded already served. The silence was awkward, until Katherine, trying to fill the void, asked about his "research." And Eddie began to talk. He didn't lecture; he wove a narrative about virology, about cellular mutation, about the theory of cancer cells as the key to immortality. His explanations were brilliant, passionate, far more compelling than any university lecture. Katherine was captivated. The image of the angry thug was replaced by that of a misunderstood genius.
"Could you… could you really cure cancer?" she asked, her eyes shining with admiration.
"Perhaps," he replied. Then his gaze shifted over her shoulder. "Ah. Your friend has arrived."
A man in a leather jacket with a scruffy air was approaching their table. It was Benjamin.
"Katherine," he said, ignoring Eddie completely. Then he noticed him. "And who the hell are you?"
"We've met, Benjamin," Eddie said, his voice flat. "Six months ago. You secretly photographed my notes while pretending to interview me."
Benjamin went pale. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Katherine turned to look at him, her face a mask of confusion and fear. "Ben? You know him?"
"I saw him once," he stammered, avoiding her gaze.
"Once?" Eddie laughed. He pulled out a small voice recorder and pressed play. Benjamin's own voice filled the air, clear and unmistakable, as he discussed payment for stealing the "research data" of one Eddie Cai.
The color drained from Benjamin's face. His knees seemed to give way, and he leaned heavily on the table.
Katherine stared at him, her eyes filling with tears. The betrayal was a sharp, physical pain in her chest. "You… you lied to me."
Crack.
The sound of the slap was sharp, almost deafening in the sudden silence. A raw, red handprint bloomed instantly on Benjamin's cheek.
"Bastard," she hissed, her voice breaking with sobs. "Don't you ever come near me again."
She turned and fled the restaurant, leaving the wreckage Eddie had so masterfully orchestrated in her wake.