The "praise me" look of anticipation on Leon's face instantly froze into a complex expression, a mix of embarrassment and chagrin.
He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to explain something, but couldn't get a single word out.
In the end, he could only lower his head and study his own dust-covered tactical boots.
Noah and Claire exchanged a knowing look.
In that look was a suppressed smile, but also a hint of helplessness toward this clown of a teammate.
This three-story dormitory building was like the intestines of a dead concrete giant—winding, narrow, and filled with the stench of decay.
They passed through the corridor they had just cleared and continued exploring deeper into the building.
Most of the doors to the rooms along the way were wide open.
Cheap iron bed frames were tilted and scattered everywhere.
Dark, human-shaped stains remained on the yellowed mattresses.
In the air, the smell of sweat mixed with low-quality tobacco was almost thick enough to be tangible.
Occasionally, a few zombies startled by the gunfire would stagger out of the rooms.
But before they could even get close, the silencer-equipped beretta in Noah's hand would precisely leave an inconspicuous small hole in their foreheads, and they would silently slump to the ground.
At the end of the corridor was a heavy fire door painted in faded yellow.
Noah gripped the horizontal bar and pressed down hard.
"Screeeech—"
Accompanied by a tooth-aching metal groan, the door was pushed open.
A gust of air, colder and more humid than the interior, rushed in to meet them.
Behind the door was an even narrower open-air passage.
On the left was the mottled wall of the dormitory building, and on the right was a concrete prison wall.
Coils of sharp, cold-glinting barbed wire were wound around the top of the wall.
The ground was slippery and uneven, with puddles of foul-smelling sewage.
The only illumination came from the burning building ruins in the distance; the flickering firelight stretched the shadows of the four people on the wall, making them long and short like ghosts.
The four entered in single file, maintaining a combat formation.
Noah was in the front, Leon brought up the rear, and Claire and Ada protected the flanks.
They walked very slowly, their tactical boots making a slight "patter, patter" sound in the puddles.
That sound seemed exceptionally clear in this deathly silent, narrow space confined by high walls.
Just as they were about to round a corner...
At the corner was a rusty metal fire ladder, extending upward along the wall and disappearing into the darkness.
A slight but distinct friction sound came from beneath the fire ladder.
The four stopped in their tracks almost at the same time, holding their breath.
The sound was like someone dragging a heavy sack.
Noah slowly peeked half his head out.
In the dim light, a corpse wearing an Umbrella security uniform was being dragged by someone—or rather, by something—into the deep darkness beneath the fire ladder.
The corpse's heels left two clear dark-red blood trails on the rough concrete.
The dragging motion was full of primitive, urgent, beast-like greed.
The next second.
Several low, threatening growls, suppressed deep in the throat, sounded from the darkness.
"Watch out!"
Noah's words had not even fully landed.
Three black shadows, swift as lightning, suddenly pounced out from the shadows under the fire ladder.
They were dogs, or rather, they used to be dogs.
Three Doberman Pinschers deeply infected by the t-virus.
Large patches of their fur had fallen off, revealing the rotten blue-purple muscle tissue underneath.
One eye socket no longer had an eyeball, leaving only two hollow black holes, yet it could accurately lock onto the position of living people.
Their open mouths were filled with jagged, sharp teeth, and foul, thick saliva dripped constantly from the corners of their mouths.
"Roar!"
One of them leapt up, lunging straight at Noah, who was in the lead.
The other two split left and right, charging with clear targets toward Claire and Ada.
The entire process was so fast that there was almost no time to react.
But there were no ordinary people here.
Leon's reaction was almost pure muscle instinct; he didn't even take precise aim.
With a slight shift of his body, the broken butterfly at his waist was already in his hand.
"Bang!"
The deafening gunshot was amplified several times in this narrow, echo-chamber-like passage, violently striking everyone's eardrums.
Carrying unmatched kinetic energy, the bullet instantly blew the head of the Zombie Dog pouncing toward them into a cloud of flying flesh and blood.
Under the massive momentum, the headless corpse tumbled forward several more meters before slamming heavily onto the ground, twitching a few times before it stopped moving.
Almost at the same time.
Ada's figure was like a weightless black feather.
She simply floated back one step lightly.
The Zombie Dog pouncing at her missed, brushing past the edge of her clothes.
And in the moment it landed and turned around.
The elegantly styled suppressed pistol in Ada's hand had already emitted two almost inaudible "thud, thud" sounds.
Two bullets precisely entered through the Zombie Dog's empty eye sockets, scrambling its already necrotic brain.
The end for the last Zombie Dog pouncing at Noah was the most straightforward.
Noah didn't even draw his gun.
Just as the Zombie Dog was about to pounce into his face, his body swayed slightly at an incredible angle.
He easily avoided that lethal bite.
Then his right hand shot out like lightning.
His five fingers precisely clamped onto the Zombie Dog's upper and lower jaws.
"Crack!"
A crisp sound of breaking bones rang out, enough to make one's scalp tingle.
Noah's arm muscles only bulged slightly.
The entire jaw of that Zombie Dog, along with half its head, was ripped off by his bare hands.
Noah casually threw the half-section of the still-twitching remains onto the ground.
He shook the blood off his hands, the entire process calm and composed, as if he had just swatted an annoying fly.
Leon whistled and holstered the still-smoking broken butterfly.
"Nice work."
Having dealt with these blind appetizers.
The four continued forward.
Two more rusty iron-grated doors appeared in the passage.
The doors weren't locked.
Leon kicked them open one by one, cleanly and efficiently.
During this, they encountered a few more zombies that came at the sound.
They wore security uniforms and moved as slowly as old men taking a stroll in a park.
The four didn't even bother wasting bullets.
They simply walked past them easily, as if avoiding human-shaped obstacles on the roadside.
After passing through the second iron-grated door, the view ahead suddenly opened up.
They had arrived inside another building.
This place was completely different from the previous dormitory building filled with the stench of decay.
There was no nauseating smell of death in the air.
Instead, there was a cold smell of disinfectant, similar to a hospital.
The bright incandescent tubes overhead emitted a slight "humming" electrical sound, illuminating the entire space in a deathly white.
The floor was polished terrazzo, smooth as a mirror, and the walls were made of cold stainless steel.
The entire room was permeated with a sense of coldness and silence.
In the very center of the room was a short passage made of glass and metal.
At the entrance of the passage stood a tall, arched metal detection gate.
On the wall beside it hung a large acrylic sign.
On the sign, a line of English was written in striking red font.
A soft electronic voice sounded:
"WARNING: DEPOSIT ALL METALLIC ITEMS IN THE LOCKER BEFORE ENTRY."
(Warning: Before entering, please store all metal items in the storage locker.)
Below the sign, there was also an icon of a handgun with a large red 'X' over it.
Noah took out the IBM ThinkPad laptop that Trant had given him from his tactical backpack.
He quickly powered it on and pulled up the detailed internal structure map of Rockfort Island provided by Trant.
On the map, their current location was labeled as the "Metallic Item Detection Room."
And the room behind the sign, which required passing through the metal detection gate to enter, was labeled as the "High-Precision Metal Printing Workshop."
Noah pointed to the labels on the screen and said to everyone.
"Trant's data shows there is a High-Precision 3D Metal Printer imported from Germany here."
"Umbrella uses it to manufacture some highly classified, special keys and precision instrument parts."
"If I'm not mistaken, the electronic key card for the main gate of the prison area that we couldn't open should be manufactured here."
"In other words, we must go in."
Leon glanced at the metal detection gate flickering with a faint blue light and frowned.
"We have to leave all metal items here?"
He patted the broken butterfly at his waist and touched the dagger strapped to his shoulder.
"Then if we go in, won't we just be empty-handed lambs?"
Noah looked at Claire beside him, his eyes filled with absolute confidence.
He said to Leon and Ada.
"There's no way around it."
"Claire and I will go in."
"Even without weapons, with our skills, there shouldn't be any problem."
Leon's gaze subconsciously flickered toward Ada beside him.
The flash of some kind of anticipation in those eyes was almost undisguised.
He immediately nodded like a woodpecker.
"Good idea!"
"Ada and I will keep watch for you outside to ensure everything is foolproof!"
That impatient manner was as if he were afraid Noah would suddenly change his mind.
Ada looked at Leon's expression, which practically had "I want to be alone with you" written all over it; on that perpetual iceberg-like face, a rare expression mixed with amusement and helplessness appeared.
She reached out her hand, clad in a black leather glove, and lightly pressed her temple.
She seemed to be feeling a headache for this partner whose IQ was often not online.
After the decision was made, the two began to strip off all the metal equipment on their bodies.
Handguns, submachine guns, magazines, daggers, grenades... piece by piece, the cold weapons exuding the breath of death were carefully placed into a large metal storage locker by the wall.
"Click, clack."
The crisp sound of metal clashing rose and fell in the quiet room.
Soon, the storage locker was piled high with fine equipment.
Claire unbuckled the Grenade Launcher from her waist, stroking the cold barrel somewhat reluctantly before placing it into the locker.
When both Noah and Claire had disarmed.
Noah's gaze fell upon a pair of sinister-looking knuckle dusters atop the pile of weapons and equipment.
Those were the melee weapons he always carried with him.
A mischievous thought suddenly popped up in the depths of his heart.
He picked up the pair of knuckle dusters and shook them in front of Claire.
"Sigh, I wonder what would happen if I went in carrying metal weapons?"
"I'll give it a try."
He finished speaking.
Before Claire could react, he had already donned the knuckle dusters and swaggered into the passage leading to the inner room.
Almost the instant he stepped into the metal detector gate.
"Woo—woo—woo—"
A piercing, high-decibel alarm suddenly resounded throughout the entire room.
Rows of red warning lights on the walls began to flash frantically.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Several heavy impacts of metal, so powerful they made the ground vibrate, rang out in succession.
The door at the end of the passage was instantly sealed by a heavy gate dropping from above.
Even the observation windows on both sides of the passage were completely sealed off by equally thick steel plates.
The entire passage instantly turned into an airtight steel cage.
People outside could no longer see anything happening inside.
Noah seemed to be "startled" by this sudden turn of events.
He backed out of the passage resentfully.
Then, with an "innocent" look on his face, he took off the knuckle dusters and tossed them into a storage locker.
As the metal items were removed.
The piercing alarm came to an abrupt halt.
The red warning lights also went out.
The heavy gate sealing the passage slowly rose with a "creak-creak," revealing the entrance to the interior.
However, the thick steel plates sealing the observation windows didn't budge.
They remained firmly blocked there; Leon watched the scene, dumbfounded.
"This guy... did he do that on purpose?"
Ada crossed her arms and watched quietly; Noah, with a harmless smile on his face, said nothing.
But deep within those beautiful almond eyes, two words seemed to be written.
"Childish, boring."
Noah and Claire glanced at each other, both seeing a hint of amusement in the other's eyes.
Then the two of them walked into the passage side by side.
Passing through the passage to the interior of the room, the space inside wasn't very large.
It contained several precision instruments of unknown purpose and a massive 3D printer that looked like a metal beast.
And at this moment.
A figure that surprised them slightly was facing away from them, huddled in front of a computer terminal, checking something with rapt attention.
It was the brown-haired youth they had briefly encountered not long ago.
Steve Burnside.
He seemed completely unaware that two more people had appeared behind him.
Claire's gaze passed over Steve's shoulder and landed on the lit computer screen.
Her breath suddenly hitched.
Displayed on the screen was a detailed personal file.
And in the file photo, the man with sharp eyes wearing a S.T.A.R.S. uniform was someone she knew all too well.
"Chris?"
Claire's voice carried a hint of unbelievable trembling.
"There's information on Chris here?"
Hearing someone speak, Steve's body suddenly stiffened.
Like a startled cat, he instantly jumped up from his chair and turned around.
When he saw the newcomers were Noah and Claire, the panic on his face subsided slightly, replaced by a complex expression mixed with vigilance and curiosity.
"You... you know him?"
His voice still carried the clear resonance and childishness unique to a youth.
"He's my brother."
Claire took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the face on the screen, her voice sounding somewhat urgent due to excitement.
"I received news that he was trapped here; I came to save him."
Steve fell silent.
He looked at Claire's bright blue eyes, which were shining with rekindled hope, and the expression on his face became somewhat strange.
It was a mixture of envy, confusion, and a hint of loneliness that he himself hadn't even noticed.
He lowered his head and kicked at an imaginary pebble by his feet, his voice muffled.
"I really didn't expect..."
"That... someone would actually... come to this Hell for someone else..."
He let out a long sigh.
It carried a sense of exhaustion and weariness completely disproportionate to his age.
He raised his head again, looking at Claire and continuing.
"Chris Redfield... he is currently under strict surveillance by Umbrella."
"He might be held at..."
Before he could finish.
Noah took over the conversation.
His voice was as steady and calm as ever.
"We know."
"We have our own information channels."
He looked at the youth before him, who appeared rebellious on the outside but hid many stories within, and extended an olive branch.
"Do you want to move with us? An extra person means extra strength."
These words seemed to strike the most sensitive nerve in Steve's heart, the one named "self-esteem."
The hint of loneliness and melancholy on his face was instantly replaced by an intense and angry feeling of being offended.
His face flushed bright red.
"I don't need your sympathy!"
His voice suddenly jumped an octave, sharp and piercing.
"I can do it on my own!"
With that, like an enraged young lion, he forcefully pushed open a door on the other side of the room and rushed out without looking back.
Bang!
The door was slammed shut heavily by him.
Leaving behind a bewildered Claire and a still-calm Noah.
Silence returned to the room.
Claire looked at the door, which was still vibrating slightly, and after a while, she shook her head and curled her lip.
"...What a strange guy..."
Noah walked to the computer Steve had just been using.
On the screen, Chris's file was still clear.
Below it was a scrolling line of real-time monitoring data.
Noah quickly tapped on the keyboard a few times, trying to pull up more information, only to find that all key data was locked by a higher level of authorization.
He didn't waste any more time.
The two began to search the room carefully.
The room wasn't large; aside from a few cold instruments and some scattered technical documents, there wasn't much of value.
Just as Claire was about to give up in disappointment.
Noah found something different in a locked desk drawer.
He didn't have a key.
He simply placed his finger on the lock cylinder and applied a bit of force.
With a slight "click," the lock broke.
Lying quietly in the drawer was a heavy metal emblem shimmering with a bronze luster.
The emblem was shaped like an eagle about to take flight.
The carving was exquisite and lifelike.
Claire picked up the eagle emblem, the cold metallic sensation transferring from her palm.
Her thoughts were instantly pulled back to that chaotic night that changed her life.
The Raccoon City Police Department, also an ancient building full of puzzles.
Also requiring the search for various strange emblems to activate mechanisms.
She thought of Leon, who was still a rookie cop back then.
She thought of Noah, who was just an ordinary international student back then.
Back then, they were green and nervous, yet full of courage and determination to face the unknown.
She turned her head to look at Noah, who was focused on studying some data at the computer with a slight frown.
Sunlight (actually the firelight from outside) had at some point penetrated the thick layer of clouds composed of smoke and dust above the island.
A ray of golden "morning light" shone through a small window high in the room at an angle.
It landed right on the side of Noah's face.
Plating his well-defined features with a warm golden edge.
His eyelashes cast a small, quiet shadow under his eyelids.
Claire's heart skipped a beat for no reason.
The corners of her mouth curled up unconsciously into a sweet and gentle smile.
Yes.
Raccoon City was the beginning of everything.
The start of the nightmare, and also... the starting point where her fate intertwined with his.
It was in that city, completely consumed by death and fire.
That her heart, which once only beat for motorcycles and freedom, completely surrendered to this man who always stood in front of her at the most dangerous moments... the Atlantic.
A C-130 transport plane belonging to the US Air Force had just finished refueling in Buenos Aires.
At this moment, it was flying at maximum cruising speed toward the Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa. (To avoid Umbrella's eyes)
And below it.
A specially modified high-speed speedboat was like a black blade, cutting through the deep blue sea and kicking up two snow-white waves.
Chris Redfield stood on the deck of the speedboat.
The sea breeze, carrying salty mist, made his well-fitted BSAA combat uniform flap loudly.
His face was written with anxiety and solemnity.
Those eyes that were once sharp like a hawk's were now bloodshot.
He hadn't closed his eyes for over twenty hours.
Ever since receiving that message from that bastard Wesker, his heart had been hanging in mid-air.
Claire... his sister... actually broke into Umbrella's secret base in Paris.
And was then locked up on Rockfort, known as "Devil's Island."
Just then.
A crisp sound of footsteps came from inside the cabin.
A clear and pleasant female voice followed.
"Chris, I received the latest news from Mr. T."
"Claire is on the island right now. She is safe."
A tall figure wearing the same style of combat uniform walked out of the cabin.
She had neat, short chestnut hair.
Those clear eyes shimmered with the light of wisdom and determination.
She walked to Chris's side and stood with him, her gaze also looking toward the faint black outline where the sea met the sky.