"How did you and Lear meet?"
Marvin looked toward Jill, asking with a rare hint of ease in his voice as he opened the door.
Jill exhaled softly and began, "I had originally planned to head to the Police Station this morning while you were evacuating civilians. However, there were several Infected in my building that cost me a lot of time. Combined with how fast your evacuation moved, one thing led to another, and I was delayed until nightfall. I was just about to head out when I heard the explosion, and then I ran into him in the building."
"We were attacked by a tall, humanoid creature," Lear cut in, his tone still carrying a trace of lingering fear.
"It's a Tyrant," Jill added somberly. "That's what the Umbrella Corporation calls it."
Lear nodded and looked at Marvin, continuing, "I was injured at the time and fled all the way to Jill's neighborhood. Without her, I probably wouldn't have made it this far."
When Sherry heard that Lear had been hurt, her grip on his hand tightened involuntarily as she looked up at him with a face full of worry.
Lear gently patted Sherry's head, soothing her in a soft voice, "It's all right now. I'm already better."
Lear and the others pushed open the police station main gate and stepped inside. The Main Hall was empty and desolate, with a few desks and chairs scattered about. Aside from their group, there were no other officers or surviving civilians in sight.
"Sergeant, where is everyone else?" Lear looked around, his brow furrowed as he turned to Marvin with confusion.
Marvin waved a hand, responding in a casual tone, "Just call me Marvin. They've all gone to the West Wing. Most of the civilians who stayed behind are being housed over there as well. A short while ago, someone reported seeing a four-legged, crawling monster scale the perimeter wall of the Police Station. It didn't look human at all; it was more like some kind of lizard-like creature, moving with strange, incredible speed. I sent David and a few officers over to investigate, but we haven't heard back yet, and no one has returned."
As he spoke, he unbuckled his gear and set it gently on the front desk. The soft metallic clatter echoed clearly through the quiet Main Hall.
Hearing Marvin's description, Lear's heart skipped a beat. A grotesque silhouette immediately flashed through his mind—the Licker. Familiarly dubbed "Sir Licks-a-Lot" by Biohazard enthusiasts, it was a Bio Organic Weapon developed by the Umbrella Corporation and one of the few experimental subjects capable of being deployed for large-scale combat. Its speed, strength, and aggression far exceeded that of a normal zombie.
Even for those protected by "protagonist armor" like Leon, Claire, or Jill, it wasn't exactly easy to handle—it was extremely dangerous. For the past two days, the Raccoon City officers had only faced ordinary zombies—slow-moving, brainless, and possessing no means of attack beyond pouncing and biting. Facing a specialized Bio Organic Weapon like a Licker, they would easily be overwhelmed.
"Marvin, please contact them immediately! Something is wrong. You must warn David—tell him not to venture out recklessly under any circumstances!" Lear spoke urgently, his expression grave. "The threat out there is far more than just ordinary Infected."
"He's right, Marvin. It's extremely dangerous out there now." Hearing this, Jill stepped forward, her expression solemn. "The Tyrant was released by Umbrella. There's no telling if that thing is another Bio Organic Weapon just like it."
"I'll contact him now."
After listening to them, Marvin immediately realized the severity of the situation. His expression hardened as he raised his walkie-talkie and called out in a low voice:
"David, Kane, are you there? Respond if you copy."
He called several times, but only static crackled through the receiver; there was no response. Marvin's face turned ashen as he lowered the walkie-talkie and looked up at the group, his voice heavy:
"Something must have happened. We shouldn't be losing the signal at this distance."
With that, he grabbed his sidearm from the desk, performed a quick check, and gave a decisive order: "I'm going to check on them. Lear, you two stay here and rest. Elliot, you three are with me!"
As the words left his lips, Marvin turned to head toward the West Wing of the Police Station.
"Wait, Marvin!" Lear hurried forward to stop him. "David and the others were fully armed when they left. If even they met with disaster, rushing in now would only lead to more casualties.
I suggest you first take some men to check and lock down all the doors connecting to the Main Hall. We're short-staffed, and we can't secure every inch of the station, so I think the priority should be ensuring the Main Hall is safe.
Jill and I will go and investigate. We have experience dealing with the Tyrant; even if it is a new Bio Organic Weapon from Umbrella, we can handle it. If anything happens and we need support, I'll call for backup immediately via the walkie-talkie."
Marvin pondered for a moment before finally nodding. "Alright. We'll check the doors to the other corridors and seal off all the entrances. Be extremely careful. If anything goes wrong, call us immediately, and we'll come to support you."
The weapons and ammunition Kendo had brought, along with what remained of the Police Station's original stock, were piled in a corner of the Main Hall. When he played the games, Lear always wanted to complain about how—even when the place was practically burning down—Leon and Claire had to run around looking for keys to unlock cabinets for guns. If it wasn't for the sake of gameplay mechanics, it would have been pure insanity.
That was why, from the very beginning, Lear had suggested to Raymond that all weapons be stored in an easily accessible area, establishing a weapons station guarded by designated personnel.
Lear walked over to the weapons station. He checked the condition of various firearms while replenishing grenades for his empty Grenade Launcher and loading shells into his shotgun.
Jill followed him over, eyeing the neatly organized weapon cache with a slight arch of her brow. "It seems a lot has changed here since I left."
"It was all this kid's idea, and Chief Raymond adopted it," Marvin said as he walked past, his tone filled with a hint of admiration. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. This kid has a sharp mind, and Chief Raymond has the experience. If Irons were still here, he'd probably be telling us to 'file a report' first." A trace of mockery appeared on Marvin's face as he spoke.
Saying this, he leaned down and pulled a large, holstered pistol from beneath the weapons station table, handing it to Jill.
"Jill, you're familiar with this, aren't you? I grabbed it from your office. Given the situation, I don't think anyone's going to hold us accountable, right?" Marvin looked at the two of them and gave a rare wink, his tone shifting to something more playful.
"Whoa, a Lightning Hawk!" Jill's eyes lit up. She took the pistol without hesitation, expertly checking the magazine and the frame. "It used to be impossible to even touch this thing; Wesker treated it like his precious baby. Well, now this baby is mine."
She briskly strapped the holster on, adjusting it to her most comfortable draw position. She looked at Lear and nodded, ready to move out at any moment.
Their preparations complete, Lear and Jill turned toward the West Wing corridor. They had only taken a few steps when Sherry came running after them, her eyes slightly red as she fought back tears, whispering, "Lear... please, be careful."
The young girl was filled with reluctance, yet she was mature enough not to stop him. She merely clutched the hem of her shirt, watching him with worry.
Lear stopped, knelt down, and gave her a gentle hug, soothing her softly: "Don't worry. We'll be back soon."
Before leaving, he turned back to Marvin and the others, giving a solemn reminder: "Once we leave, lower the shutters and lock them. Unless we call you ourselves or return safely, do not open them under any circumstances. Wait for Chief Raymond to return with his team."
With those final instructions, the two turned and disappeared into the deep, dark corridors of the West Wing.
(Translated by yourtl.app)