Chapter 113: Louis

September 29, 1998, 10:17 AM GMT, Umbrella Corporation European Sixth Research Facility, Underground Monitoring Center.

On the outskirts of Lyon, France, on the seventeenth underground level of the Umbrella Corporation European Sixth Research Facility, heavy lead-alloy walls isolated the sunlight and sounds of the surface; in the monitoring center, kept at a constant 22 degrees Celsius, only the low hum of instruments and the sound of keyboard typing wove together into a cold background noise.

On a massive screen composed of twenty-seven high-definition monitors, real-time footage from every corner of Raccoon City was broadcast simultaneously.

Some screens displayed bloody scenes of zombies devouring corpses, while others were frozen on the moments UBCS members were torn apart by Lickers; the main screen in the very center was locked onto the life signals and combat trajectory of the Nemesis T-Type throughout.

"Target Jill Valentine, coordinates 34.72 East, 45.19 North, Nemesis secondary evolution complete, neural synchronization rate 92%, estimated kill within three minutes."

The researcher in the white lab coat reported the data without even raising his head, his tone as flat as if he were reading a list of goods.

His colleague beside him picked up a coffee and took a sip, his gaze sweeping casually over Jill, who was being cornered by Nemesis on the screen, a playful smirk even curling the corners of his mouth.

Luis Sera leaned against the monitoring console in the back row, clutching an empty coffee cup tightly in his hand.

The chill of the cup seeped through his skin and into his bones, but it could not suppress the churning nausea in his stomach.

On the screen, Jill rolled to dodge Nemesis's iron fist, her back slamming heavily against the concrete wall, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood.

She raised her hand and fired three shots in succession at the monster's head, but the bullets only splattered a few drops of blood on its body.

Nemesis let out a dull roar, its thick tentacles lashing out suddenly, grazing Jill's cheek and pinning into the wall, sending stone fragments flying.

Luis turned abruptly, walked quickly out of the monitoring room, pushed open the bathroom door at the end of the hall, and leaned over the sink, retching violently.

Cold tap water washed over his cheeks, and the mirror reflected a pale, exhausted face.

He was only 22 years old this year, an age that should have been full of high spirits, yet his eyes were bloodshot, filled with exhaustion and despair that did not match his age.

He thought of his grandfather.

That old man who had farmed for his whole life in a remote Spanish village, kind and stubborn, would share the best bread in the house with stray children.

Until one day, when his grandfather was bitten by an unknown creature while chopping wood in the mountains, he returned delirious, possessing immense strength, and biting anyone he saw.

The villagers said he was possessed by the devil, and they raised torches to burn him to death under the old locust tree at the entrance of the village.

Luis was only 12 years old that year. He hid in the back, watching helplessly as his grandfather struggled in pain in the sea of fire, unable to do anything.

From that day on, he made up his mind that he must research and understand those things that could turn people into monsters, and never let such a tragedy happen again.

So when Umbrella Corporation extended an olive branch to him just after he had received his doctorate in biology, he agreed almost without hesitation.

This multinational corporation possessed the world's most cutting-edge laboratories and the most ample research funding; he thought he could finally realize his ideals and save more people like his grandfather.

On his first day of work, he was assigned to the Nemesis T-Type project team.

At that time, this project had been stuck for a full ten years; researchers could never solve the problem of neural synchronization between the parasite and the host, and all test subjects either suffered brain death on the spot or turned into mindless mad dogs.

It took Luis only three months to find the key to the problem.

He modified the neurotransmitter sequence of the parasite, perfectly achieving two-way synchronization between the host and the Nemesis parasite.

That night, the entire project team held a grand celebration, and the project supervisor patted him on the shoulder, saying he was the future hope of Umbrella Corporation.

He had also truly believed that he was doing great research.

Until a week ago, when Nemesis was officially deployed into Raccoon City, with the mission objective of eliminating all S.T.A.R.S. members.

Luis watched those police officers on the screen, who, like him, wore uniforms and held guns to protect civilians, being torn apart one by one by the monster he had created with his own hands.

He watched Raccoon City change from a bustling city into a living hell flowing with blood.

He watched the company executives laugh in meetings and say "This is the most successful B.O.W. field test in history," watched them order that all survivors be treated as experimental consumables, and watched them decide to abandon the UBCS without even blinking.

He finally understood that Umbrella Corporation was never researching how to save humanity.

They were creating devils.

And he was the one handing the knife to the devil.

Luis washed his face with cold water again, pinched his palm hard, and forced himself to calm down.

He could not break down here; he still had many things to do.

When he returned to the monitoring room, he found the previously noisy room in dead silence.

All the researchers had stopped their work, staring at the main screen with grave expressions.

Even the project supervisor, who usually always had a high-and-mighty air, was standing at the console himself, his fingers gripping a pen tightly.

"What happened?" Luis asked his colleague beside him in a low voice.

The colleague did not turn back, his voice carrying a hint of imperceptible trembling: "USS Theta Team... has been wiped out."

Luis's heart sank abruptly.

USS Theta Team, Umbrella Corporation's most elite black-ops unit, was specifically responsible for handling the highest-level biohazards and recovery missions.

What kind of monster could cause the entire USS Theta Team to be wiped out?

The supervisor raised his hand and pressed the play button, and a blurry video appeared on the main screen.

This was the final footage recorded by the USS Theta Team leader's helmet camera, with the time displayed as 2:52 AM on September 29.

In the footage, four members wearing black combat uniforms were hiding in the alley next to the clock tower, their gun barrels aimed at the alley entrance.

"Target signal confirmed, distance 50 meters, moving toward the clock tower." The leader's voice came through the earpiece, "Everyone get ready, MK2 five-times potent S01 Inhibitor, aim for the lower back neural plexus, hit it in one shot."

The camera shook for a moment, turning toward the alley entrance. They saw the burning Nemesis approaching step by step; behind it, Jill was clutching her injured shoulder, stumbling backward.

The secondary-evolved Nemesis was extremely fast, slamming a fist onto the ground beside Jill, shattering the concrete instantly.

Jill couldn't dodge in time and was blown away by the shockwave, landing heavily on the ground, her pistol flying out of her hand.

Just as Nemesis raised its iron fist, preparing to deliver the final blow to Jill, a silver-white figure leaped down from the top of the clock tower like lightning.

Her movements were so fast they almost left afterimages, her long silver-white hair flying in the night wind, and the silver-white Blade Claws that popped out from her fingertips flashed with a cold light in the moonlight.

Only a muffled "puchi" sound was heard as the Blade Claws precisely pierced through Nemesis's occiput, and then, with a twist of her wrist, she forcibly severed its spine.

The once arrogant Nemesis didn't even let out a scream before it fell straight to the ground, completely still.

The entire monitoring room was silent.

Luis widened his eyes, looking at the slender figure on the screen in disbelief.

She wore a tattered black combat uniform, her face covered by a layer of grayish-white bony exoskeleton, her blood-colored pupils devoid of any human emotion, standing beside Nemesis's corpse like a grim reaper descended to the mortal world.

The recording continued. The USS Theta Team members seized the opportunity, decisively pulling the triggers, and the syringe containing the five-times potent S01 Inhibitor accurately struck the silver-haired girl's lower back.

"Hit! Target neural paralysis, self-healing ability decreased, prepare for recovery!"

Just as the leader finished speaking, the girl who had been kneeling suddenly looked up sharply.

With a posture completely defying human mechanics, she snapped the necks of two nearby team members, and her elbow blade instantly pierced the heart of a third.

The last remaining leader, seeing things going wrong, pulled out a grenade to commit mutual destruction, but was precisely shot in the head by a bullet flying from afar.

The footage stopped abruptly there.

There was a deathly silence in the monitoring room, with only the sound of everyone's rapid breathing audible.

The supervisor cleared his throat, breaking the silence: "I just accessed the top-secret files. This individual, codenamed 'Valkyrie', is Subject S01 from Arklay. She is currently the only known perfect bio-weapon that has naturally fused the T-Virus and G-Virus while retaining her sanity."

He walked to Luis's side, shoved an encrypted USB drive into his hand, and said in a low voice: "This is all the combat data on Valkyrie collected by the monitor Nicholai, including all her records from the Arklay Research Facility, The Orphanage, and the Nest. You are the best neurobiologist we have here; I want you to analyze the principles of her abilities and her weaknesses within three days."

Luis gripped the USB drive in his hand, the cold metallic touch making him shudder.

He raised his head, met the supervisor's cold gaze, and nodded: "Understood."

The supervisor patted his shoulder with satisfaction and turned to leave the monitoring room.

Luis looked at the frozen figure of the silver-haired girl on the screen, a flash of complex light passing through his eyes.

He looked down at the USB drive in his hand, then looked up at the still-burning Raccoon City on the screen, his fingers slowly tightening.

He knew that he could not go on like this anymore.

September 30, 1998, 3:57 PM, Raccoon City downtown.

Chloe stepped over the broken glass covering the floor and walked into a clothing store on the street that had already been looted empty.

The afternoon sun shone in through the broken display window, casting mottled light and shadows on the floor.

Clothes on the shelves were scattered all over the floor, mixed with dried blood and dust, and a smell of decay permeated the air.

She stopped in front of a floor-length mirror, looking at herself in the mirror.

She was still wearing the black combat uniform Jill had bought for her eight days ago; after the explosion of the Nest, the death battle with G4, and the journey along the way, it was already tattered.

The left sleeve was torn with a long gash, revealing the arm underneath that still bore light scars; the pant legs were covered in the dark green blood of monsters and mud, and there was a tear over her stomach, exposing her navel.

Her long silver-white hair was draped messily over her shoulders, covering half her face; only her pair of blood-colored eyes appeared particularly striking in the dim light.

Compared to when she had just come out of the Arklay Research Facility two months ago, she had changed too much.

At that time, although she had also experienced eight years of imprisonment, her eyes still held a hint of confusion about the future and a longing for the life of an ordinary person.

But now, there was a bit more sharp heroism between her brows, and because of frequent fighting, a cold aura of "keep away" was etched onto her face.

Chloe tried to pull at the corners of her mouth in the mirror, wanting to force a smile, but found her facial muscles were too stiff, and in the end, she only pulled out an expression uglier than crying.

She sighed helplessly, turned around, walked to the shelf, and began to choose clothes.

She chose a dark gray hooded sweatshirt, with thick, durable fabric, convenient for movement.

She also found a pair of black joggers, the cuffs tightened, so they wouldn't get in the way during combat.

Finally, she dug out a black hair tie from the cash register drawer and tied her waist-length, silver-white hair up high into a neat ponytail.

After changing her clothes, Chloe looked at the mirror again.

The girl in the mirror, wearing simple sportswear and a high ponytail, looked just like an ordinary high school student.

Only those overly cold eyes and the faint scent of blood on her body exposed everything she had just been through.

Just then, a sound of dragging footsteps came from the doorway.

A rotting zombie staggered into the clothing store.

It saw Chloe, let out a hoarse low growl, opened its mouth full of fangs, and lunged at her.

Chloe didn't even frown.

She sidestepped the zombie's lunge, her right hand flashing out like lightning, grabbing the zombie's head and giving it a gentle twist.

A crisp "crack" sound.

The zombie's body went limp on the ground and didn't move again.

Chloe looked at her hand, which was stained with a bit of rotting flesh, with disgust, tore a clean T-shirt from the shelf, wiped her hand, and then threw it on the ground.

"It's cleaner to use a weapon," she muttered to herself, took out the pistol Leon had given her from her backpack, checked the magazine, confirmed that a bullet was chambered, and tucked it behind her waist.

She walked to the doorway of the clothing store and looked up at the city center in the distance, shrouded in thick smoke.

Spencer Memorial Hospital was in that direction.

According to her memory, after Jill was scratched and infected by Nemesis, Carlos would take her there for treatment.

It was now the afternoon of September 30, and there was less than 24 hours left until the missile launch.

She had to find Jill and take her away from here before the missile hit.

Chloe took a deep breath and gripped the pistol in her hand.

The sunlight shone on her, but it couldn't dispel the chill in her eyes.

She turned and walked into the blood-scented street, her silver-white ponytail swaying gently in the wind, and soon disappeared into the ruins of the city.

Meanwhile, in distant Europe, Luis sat in the empty laboratory, looking at the combat data of "Valkyrie" on the computer screen, his fingers typing slowly on the keyboard.

His eyes were firm; he had already made a decision.

.