Chapter 25: Recalling the Past

The torrential rain at the Training Facility continued to rage across the surface. Raindrops as large as beans slammed against the alloy hull, creating a dense, dull pitter-patter that vibrated through the layers of the structure to the underground, causing the already crumbling building to groan under the heavy burden.

The collapsed areas of the basement levels were thick with the smell of damp mold and the fishy sweetness of Leech mucus. Mixed with the lingering echoes of mutated creatures' roars, it wove a pattern of eerie silence under the dim emergency lights.

Billy Coen followed the path Rebecca Chambers had taken, heading deep into the core area of the Training Facility.

The ground beneath his feet was riddled with cracks, scattered with broken glass and metallic debris. Every step required careful caution to avoid areas prone to collapse.

The zombies and mutated creatures along the way had long been cleared out by James Marcus's leeches, yet they left behind shocking traces.

Splashes of dark red blood on the walls, shredded fragments of protective suits, and the rotting remains of several experimental subjects silently told of the horrors that had occurred here.

He gripped the rifle in his hands. The body of the gun was soaked with rain and sweat, its cold touch transmitting through his palms.

At every corner, he subconsciously lowered his stance, aiming his muzzle toward the dark corridor ahead; his soldier's instincts kept him at the highest level of alertness at all times.

Ever since separating from Rebecca Chambers, his heart had been heavy with worry. Although he knew she was highly capable, in this virus-shrouded purgatory, any accident could be fatal.

"Rebecca, please respond if you receive this," Billy called out in a low voice into the walkie-talkie at his waist, but only the static hiss of current answered him.

He frowned and quickened his pace. Relying on his extensive wilderness survival experience, he quickly identified his direction, following the faint traces Rebecca Chambers had left behind step by step.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, a faint sound of gasping came from ahead, mixed with the rough sound of metal grinding. Billy's heart tightened; he immediately raised his gun and moved forward, scanning with the faint light of the emergency lamp, his pupils constricting instantly.

At the edge of the collapsed floor, Rebecca Chambers's body was suspended in mid-air.

Her right hand was deathly gripped onto a broken, exposed rebar. Her palm had been sliced open by the rough steel, and blood wound its way down her arm, looking exceptionally piercing in the dim light.

Her left arm hung powerless, and her pant leg was torn, revealing a calf covered in bruises and abrasions. Her body swayed slightly with the movement of the rebar. Her face was covered in sweat and despair, her eyes fixed on the bottomless darkness below; she had clearly reached the limit of her physical strength.

Several Baboon infected with the T-Virus were still wandering on the ground above. Their bluish-purple fur glowed eerily under the emergency lights. From time to time, they let out violent roars at Rebecca Chambers, attempting to pounce, but were blocked by the edge of the collapse, leaving them to pace back and forth irritably.

"Rebecca!" Billy barked, rushing forward and grabbing her dangling wrist.

The massive pull made Rebecca Chambers shudder violently. She turned her head to look at Billy, the despair in her eyes instantly replaced by shock and gratitude. She could clearly feel that Billy's palm was powerful and steady, deathly gripping her wrist and pulling her back from the brink of death.

"Hold on, I'm pulling you up!" Billy's voice was steady and powerful, carrying an unquestionable firmness. He braced his feet against the wall, lowered his body slightly, and used his own strength to drag Rebecca Chambers up bit by bit.

The rebar let out an overburdened "creak" from the strain of the two people. Rebecca Chambers gritted her teeth, using every last ounce of her strength to coordinate with Billy's pull, moving her body upward.

Every inch of movement brought a tearing pain to her arm. Sweat blurred her vision, and her ears were filled only with her own heavy breathing and the grinding of the steel.

Finally, at the last moment when Rebecca Chambers was about to lose her grip and her fingertips were about to slide off the rebar, Billy gave a sudden surge of power and pulled her all the way up.

Rebecca Chambers fell heavily onto the hard concrete floor with a dull thud. She lay on the ground, gasping for air in large gulps, her chest heaving violently as if she were trying to use up all the air in her lungs.

The wound in her palm stung like fire, and the muscles in her arms were stiff and sore from overexertion. Every breath pulled at the pain throughout her body.

After a long time, she finally recovered her strength, braced herself against the ground to slowly sit up, and looked at Billy standing before her. Her voice was so hoarse it was almost out of tune: "Thank you..."

Billy stood to the side, looking down at her and waving his hand. His tone was still flat, yet it carried a trace of subtle warmth: "No need. I was just keeping our agreement. We agreed to cooperate with each other, right?"

His words were simple, but they acted like a reassuring pill, causing Rebecca Chambers's tense nerves to relax instantly.

She looked up at Billy, the man who had fought alongside her all this way. Her eyes were full of complex emotions: the relief of surviving a disaster, worry about her own situation, and a lingering fear of the moment of death she had just experienced.

Just then, the walkie-talkie at Rebecca Chambers's waist suddenly emitted a burst of static, followed by a steady and urgent male voice: "Rebecca! Respond if you receive this! This is Enrico!"

It was Captain Enrico Marini.

Rebecca Chambers's heart tightened. She subconsciously reached for her waist and quickly turned on the receiver button of the walkie-talkie, her voice trembling slightly from the danger she had just faced: "This is Rebecca."

"Rebecca, have you found Coen?" Enrico Marini's voice came through the walkie-talkie, sounding clearly anxious.

Rebecca Chambers instinctively glanced at Billy beside her, her eyes flickering. She knew that once she said Billy was with her, Enrico Marini would inevitably demand he be brought back to the unit for trial.

But just now, Billy had saved her life. This kindness made it impossible for her to choose betrayal.

"Rebecca, answer me!" Enrico Marini's voice sounded again, carrying a sense of urgency.

Rebecca Chambers took a deep breath, gripped the walkie-talkie, and said word for word: "Not yet... I haven't found him yet. I will continue the search and return to the unit as soon as possible."

After speaking, she quickly turned off the walkie-talkie and clipped it back onto her waist.

Seeing this, Billy's brow furrowed slightly, and he opened his mouth as if to say something. He could tell Rebecca Chambers had just lied, but he didn't press her, just watched her silently.

Rebecca Chambers looked up, meeting Billy's gaze. She shook her head with a bitter smile, a hint of self-deprecation in her voice: "Disobeying orders on my very first mission... It seems my career isn't going very smoothly. Whatever, I might not live much longer anyway."

She paused, her gaze landing on Billy, her eyes becoming exceptionally serious. Having experienced that life-and-death test just now, she could no longer suppress the doubts in her heart. She asked softly: "Billy, I just want to know... I want to know the truth. Did you really kill 23 people? I'm not here to judge you; I just want to know the truth."

Billy looked at her clear and sincere eyes, and the tension at the corners of his mouth loosened slightly. He was silent for a moment as a buried memory flashed through his mind, then he slowly spoke, his voice low and hoarse: "It was this time last year."

Last year on the African continent, the scorching sun baked the entire jungle, and the air was so muggy it felt like water could be wrung out of it.

Billy's unit had received orders to intervene in a civil war in the heart of Africa. Their mission was to raid a Guerrilla hideout deep in the jungle and destroy the enemy's supply station.

Before setting out, the superiors had vowed that the intelligence was absolutely accurate and the target was the main force of a well-equipped Guerrilla group.

But the actual march was far more difficult than imagined. The jungle was dense, visibility was obstructed, and the heat and humidity made the soldiers miserable.

Some fainted from heatstroke, some were infected with diseases from sudden insect bites, and some encountered small-scale harassment from Guerrillas on the way and unfortunately perished.

After the long trek, of the original squad of dozens, only four survived: Billy and three other comrades.

When they finally arrived at the "Guerrilla stronghold" from the intelligence, the scene before them stunned everyone.

It wasn't an armed stronghold at all; it was just an ordinary village. Scattered thatched huts, villagers working in the fields, and children chasing and playing at the village entrance—everything appeared peaceful and serene, without the slightest trace of war.

"What's going on?" one comrade whispered in confusion.

Billy frowned and immediately contacted the superiors to report the situation, but the communication signal was extremely poor deep in the jungle and could not be connected at all.

Just then, their captain suddenly issued an order: "Listen, we can't go back empty-handed. Since we're here, eliminate all these villagers! Consider it mission accomplished!"

"What?" Billy's eyes widened instantly, unable to believe his ears. "Captain! Are you crazy? They're just innocent villagers! We're soldiers, not butchers!"

"Shut up!" the captain barked, looking at Billy with fierce eyes. "This is an order! Executing orders is a soldier's duty! If you dare to disobey, don't blame me for military discipline!"

With that, the captain waved his hand, and the three comrades behind him immediately raised their guns and surrounded the unarmed villagers. The villagers were thrown into a panic, scattering in all directions; cries and screams instantly echoed throughout the village.

Watching the scene before him, Billy's heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand. He rushed forward, trying to stop his comrades, roaring: "No! Captain! Cease fire immediately! They're all ordinary people!"

*Thud!*

With a dull sound, the captain's rifle butt slammed hard against Billy's head. Intense pain instantly swept through his body; Billy's vision went black, and his body swayed.

Before he completely lost consciousness, the last things to enter his sight were the tragic state of the villagers falling in pools of blood, the desperate cries of children, and the cold muzzles of his comrades' guns.

In the final moment his consciousness faded, he only felt cold all over, as if he had fallen into an endless abyss.

Billy slowly opened his eyes, a trace of pain and fatigue flashing in them. He returned to the present, looked at Rebecca Chambers before him, and his tone became flat, as if he were telling a story that had nothing to do with him: "But that wasn't a Guerrilla hideout at all."

Rebecca Chambers's eyes widened, her face full of shock and confusion as she hurriedly asked: "What do you mean?"

"The people who sent us on the mission were complete idiots with the wrong intelligence," Billy's voice was low, carrying a hint of self-deprecation. "But we couldn't go back empty-handed, so the captain ordered us to attack innocent villagers."

He didn't continue with the details of the memory, but Rebecca Chambers could feel the unspeakable pain and struggle in his tone. She looked at Billy, her gaze becoming increasingly complex, and asked again: "Then... did you kill those innocent people?"

Billy turned his head to look into the darkness of the corridor. He was silent for a moment before slowly speaking, his tone carrying a hint of fatigue and helplessness: "Forget it, it doesn't matter anymore. Then was then, now is now."

With that, he turned to continue walking forward, his steps pausing slightly as he added: "And you said you wouldn't judge me."

"I'm not judging you!" Rebecca Chambers immediately stood up and walked quickly to stand before him, blocking his path, her eyes exceptionally serious. "But lives are at stake here! My teammates think you killed those Military Police, but I don't."

She took a step closer, her gaze locking onto Billy's eyes, her tone firm: "It was those Zombie Dog, right? They attacked the transport, and you just took the chance to escape, isn't that right?"

Billy's body stiffened. He turned his head, avoiding Rebecca Chambers's gaze, his voice turning cold with a trace of subtle irritation: "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?" Rebecca Chambers pressed.

"I'm left with only two choices," Billy spoke slowly, his voice full of helplessness and despair. "Surrender to the military and face the death penalty, or be a fugitive for the rest of my life. That's it."

After speaking, he no longer looked at Rebecca Chambers and turned to continue walking forward, his back looking exceptionally lonely and desolate in the dim light of the emergency lamp.

Rebecca Chambers stood in place, looking at this burly man with tattooed arms who was covered in scars yet still held onto his bottom line, and didn't say another word.

She knew she couldn't truly understand Billy's experience, nor could she judge his choices. In this purgatory shrouded by the Umbrella Corporation, survival was the most difficult subject of all.

And the man before her was struggling to live on in his own way.

The emergency lights in the corridor flickered, reflecting the two figures as they drifted further apart. The darkness of the Training Facility remained, but in this space of despair, a sudden heart-to-heart had created a trace of unspeakable bond between two people who were once strangers.

What they didn't know was that James Marcus's Leech swarms were quietly approaching, and the conspiracy of Wesker and William Birkin was also accelerating. A larger storm was quietly brewing over the Arklay Mountains.