Chapter 80: Chloe's Message

September 28, 1998, 19:42, Raccoon City Southern Shipyard, Umbrella Corporation Temporary Command Center

The cold fluorescent lights cast a deathly pallor over the command room. On the wall-to-wall surveillance screens, 90% of the feeds were covered in dancing red static. In the remaining few, zombies could be seen wandering the deserted streets, while the glow of fires in the distance dyed the night sky a murky orange.

Sergei stood before the main screen with his hands behind his back. His crisp black military uniform was spotless, and the general's stars on his shoulder boards gleamed coldly under the lights.

He held an unlit cigar between his fingers, his gaze locked onto the massive figure rampaging on the screen: Nemesis-T Type.

"General, the final communication from the P12A Processing Plant has been cut off," the adjutant walked quickly to his side, holding a piece of encrypted telegram, his voice trembling slightly.

"All five T-103 Tyrants airdropped in were destroyed, and the Delta Special Forces were completely wiped out. Both sides perished together. The plant's core database has self-destructed according to protocol, leaving no traces."

Sergei turned slowly, his face devoid of any expression, as if what he had just heard was not the destruction of five ten-million-dollar biological weapons and an elite special forces unit, but merely the shattering of a few glass cups.

"As expected." He placed the cigar in his mouth but did not light it. "The people from Delta were all after the G-Virus sample; they would pay any price to get it. The T-103's mission was merely to stall for time. Being able to drag them down to hell together is already an over-fulfillment of the mission."

He walked to the sand table, his fingers lightly tracing the location of the Raccoon City Police Department, the heat from his fingertips seemingly able to melt the cold plastic.

"How many survivors are left at the Raccoon City Police Department?"

"According to intelligence sent back by Nicholai, Marvin is holding the police station with fewer than ten officers and over two hundred survivors." The adjutant opened his notebook. "They have reinforced all doors and windows and stockpiled enough food and ammunition to last a week. It is currently the largest gathering point for survivors in the city."

"Too many witnesses." Sergei's eyes turned cold instantly. "Marvin knows too much about the dealings between Irons and the Umbrella Corporation, and many of those survivors have seen us. Keeping them alive will eventually become a problem."

He looked up at the electronic clock on the wall; the red numbers flickered, showing 19:45.

"Order the transport fleet to airdrop one T-103 Tyrant to the backyard of the Raccoon City Police Department at 18:00 on September 29th." Sergei's voice was devoid of emotion. "Mission objective: Eliminate all living things and destroy all documents and evidence related to the Umbrella Corporation inside the police station. After the mission is complete, find a concealed location and stand by."

"Yes, General." The adjutant immediately lowered his head to record the order. "What about Nemesis? It has been in continuous combat for over six hours, killed four unidentified armed personnel and one S.T.A.R.S. member, and energy consumption has exceeded 20%."

"Let it continue." A cold smile curled the corner of Sergei's mouth. "Nemesis's goal is to hunt down all S.T.A.R.S. members. Now that Jill Valentine is still alive, its mission is not complete. I want to see if this work, which Oswell E. Spencer has such high hopes for, can bring us more surprises."

He turned back to the main screen; Nemesis had just smashed through the wall of an apartment building and disappeared into a dark alley.

"The game has only just begun." Sergei whispered, a hint of fanaticism in his voice. "Let us see who can survive until the end."

September 28, 1998, 21:07, Raccoon City Central Subway Station, Lower Entrance

Carlos supported Jill Valentine's arm as they descended into the subway station.

"Alright, we're here." Carlos let go of Jill Valentine, letting her rest for a moment. "I think we're safe."

Jill Valentine's movements were unsteady. Her clothes were soaked through with sweat and blood, and a strip of cloth torn off on the fly was wrapped around her left arm, already stained a dark brown by blood.

She clutched the silver metal cooler tightly in her arms, as if holding the most precious thing in the world.

"I hope so." Jill Valentine's voice was hoarse. She gasped for air; the thrilling escape just now had exhausted almost all her strength.

Nemesis's iron fist, the crashing helicopter, the exploding car, and Brad's final resolute figure—scene after scene flashed through her mind, causing her head to throb.

"The survivors have all been brought here." Carlos withdrew his hand and scratched his head awkwardly. He was already used to Jill Valentine's coldness and knew what this woman had just been through.

"Where is this?" Jill Valentine looked up, surveying the dilapidated subway station entrance before her. The walls were covered in graffiti, glass shards were scattered everywhere, and the rolling shutter at the entrance had been ripped down.

Carlos looked back at the stairs extending down from the subway entrance, which were covered in dust and footprints, clearly showing that many people had passed through here.

"My teammates turned several subway cars into a shelter." Carlos's tone became more relaxed. "This is dozens of meters underground; it's hard for zombies to break in, and there's an independent ventilation system and emergency power. It's much safer than the surface. Really, it's safe."

As he spoke, he instinctively reached out to put an arm around Jill Valentine's shoulder, wanting to offer her some comfort.

"I'm fine." Jill Valentine stepped back, her eyes instantly becoming vigilant.

Carlos's hand froze in mid-air. He shrugged awkwardly and said with a wry smile, "Personal space, okay, I get it. Let's go, I'll take you in to meet the others."

After speaking, he turned and walked into the narrow passage first. Jill Valentine hesitated for a moment, clutching the cooler tightly, and followed behind him.

The passage was pitch black, with only the faint light from the flashlight in Carlos's hand illuminating the path a few meters ahead.

The air was filled with a damp, musty smell and a faint tang of blood. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, and from time to time, they could step on scattered rubble and discarded newspapers.

The two walked for about fifty meters when Carlos suddenly stopped and cursed.

"Oh, what the hell, which bastard locked this!"

Jill Valentine stepped forward and looked, using the light from the flashlight to see that the iron gate leading to the subway platform was firmly locked.

"Sorry, we have to take a detour." Carlos shrugged helplessly and turned toward a small, inconspicuous room nearby. "This used to be the station's equipment room; there's a backup passage that leads to the platform."

He pushed open the door to the equipment room, and a heavy smell of dust rushed out. The room was piled with discarded cables and rusty tools, and spiderwebs covered the corners. Carlos shone his flashlight around and found the stairs leading underground.

"Stay close to me; the stairs here are a bit steep." Carlos said, leading the way down.

Jill Valentine followed behind him, stepping down the creaking iron stairs one step at a time. In the darkness, there was only the sound of their footsteps and breathing.

"Hey, how much do you know about that monster?" Carlos, walking in front, suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

"I don't know. I've never seen it before." Jill Valentine's voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, but her hand gripped the cooler's handle unconsciously.

"But it's not a zombie, right?" Carlos's voice came from the front, tinged with doubt. "It knows who its target is, and it won't give up until it achieves its goal."

"Don't like men like that?" Carlos suddenly quipped, trying to ease the heavy atmosphere.

"Thanks for the concern, keep it to yourself!" Jill Valentine said crossly, a hint of hard-to-detect irritability in her tone.

Carlos paused, as if recalling something terrifying, and his tone became solemn: "Besides, that's not the most terrifying monster I've seen."

Jill Valentine's footsteps stopped abruptly, and her heart skipped a beat. "You've seen others?"

"Yeah, just two days ago, at the City Hall square." Carlos's voice carried a hint of lingering fear.

"My teammates and I originally wanted to go there to see if there were any survivors, but we saw a battle from afar. A silver-haired monster, wearing something like armor, with blade-like claws on its hands, started fighting with several troops wearing black combat suits."

Jill Valentine's breathing stopped instantly.

Silver hair.

This phrase struck her mind like lightning. She thought of Chloe, the little girl with silver hair, the little girl who was torn apart by the G1 in the Nest laboratory.

Impossible.

She clearly saw Chloe ripped in half with her own eyes, clearly saw the alloy door slam shut behind her, clearly saw the VX nerve gas fill the entire laboratory.

No one could survive in that situation.

Absolutely impossible.

Jill Valentine's palms began to sweat. She forced herself to calm down, but her voice trembled slightly, out of her control: "And then?"

"And then? Then those special forces all died." Carlos's voice was filled with disbelief.

"They were wearing that kind of bulletproof exoskeleton armor, holding rocket launchers and heavy machine guns, but in front of that silver-haired monster, they didn't even last ten minutes. That monster's speed was absurdly fast. I couldn't even see its movements clearly; I just saw flashes of silver light, and then those people all fell."

He swallowed and continued: "Later, the gunshots and explosions attracted a large number of zombies, and that monster jumped onto the roof and left. We hid in the distance and watched for a long time, not daring to go over. Honestly, I'd rather face a hundred zombies than run into that monster again."

Jill Valentine didn't speak; her mind was in chaos. The monster Carlos described was completely different from the Chloe in her memory.

Although Chloe also possessed super strength and speed due to the virus mutation, she had never grown claws, nor had she ever worn any armor.

However, the silver-haired feature was just too much of a coincidence.

Could it be...

A terrible thought rose in her heart, making her body go cold.

Could it be that Chloe didn't die?

Could it be that she, like William Birkin, mutated when she was on the verge of death?

But if she didn't die, why didn't she come to find her? Why did she hide?

Countless questions swirled in her mind, making her head throb with pain. She shook her head vigorously, trying to shake off these chaotic thoughts.

Now was not the time to think about this.

She had more important things to do.

Carlos smiled and introduced himself: "I belong to the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service, or UBCS for short."

Jill Valentine looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Are you f***ing kidding me? You people are the ones who caused this disaster!"

Carlos looked innocent. "Hey, hey, hey, what are you saying? You don't have to believe me, but I'm about to reach the shelter. Do you want to come?"

Carlos pushed open the door, and a burst of noisy sounds rushed over immediately. There was the sound of children crying, the whispers of adults, and the intermittent static from a radio.

This was the subway platform, where several abandoned subway cars had been converted into a temporary shelter.

The cars were lit, and under the bright white light, one could see survivors huddled in the corners in twos and threes, their faces filled with exhaustion and despair.

"Hey, Captain, there's a beauty here who needs our help." Carlos said upon entering one of the carriages.

A tall man wearing a black beret was sitting inside. His face was pale, his lips were chapped, and his abdomen was wrapped in thick gauze, with blood faintly seeping through the gauze.

"Carlos, did you not think to ask this beauty her name?" The man's voice was slightly hoarse. He looked Jill Valentine up and down, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"She is an elite member of the Raccoon City Police Department's Special Tactics and Rescue Service, named... what... Valentine..."

"My name is Jill Valentine." Jill Valentine nodded, her tone remaining cold.

"Nice to meet you, Jill Valentine. My name is Mikhail Victor, the platoon leader of the UBCS." Mikhail extended his hand. "We were sent here to search for and rescue citizens."

Jill Valentine didn't shake his hand, just nodded. Her gaze swept over the survivors in the carriage and fell back on Mikhail.

"What's the situation now?"

Mikhail's face sank. He instinctively covered the wound on his abdomen, frowning in pain.

"This city has lost contact with the outside world and has been completely isolated." Mikhail's voice carried a hint of heaviness. "Most of the hundreds of thousands of citizens here have become corpses—no, zombies."

He looked at Carlos, who was organizing his equipment, and sighed: "My platoon has taken too heavy a hit. The original team of 120 people now has fewer than seven or eight left. Just keeping them and these survivors alive is enough of a headache."

"For that, you can thank your company's top management." Jill Valentine mocked coldly, her eyes filled with anger.

A helpless, bitter smile appeared on Mikhail's face: "Well, we've done our best. Honestly, we were kept in the dark too. We received orders to come here to carry out a rescue mission; we didn't know anything about any virus or zombies."

He paused, his eyes becoming firm: "But it's useless to talk about that now. If we can get this train running, we can leave Raccoon City through the underground tunnel and rescue some survivors. But my team alone can't complete this mission. We need help."

Jill Valentine was silent. She looked at the survivors in the carriage whose eyes were filled with fear and longing, remembered Brad's dying instructions, and remembered the S01 Inhibitor and the incriminating evidence that Chloe had traded her life for.

She hated Umbrella, hated everyone associated with Umbrella. But these survivors were innocent.

"Fine, I agree to join." Jill Valentine said slowly. "But I'm helping these survivors, not you UBCS."

"Hehe, no problem, the goal is the same." Carlos grinned and pulled a walkie-talkie from his pocket, handing it to Jill Valentine. "Alright, Super Cop, take this; we can use it to stay in touch."

Jill Valentine looked at him like he was an idiot, took the walkie-talkie, and clipped it to her waist. "I know how to use a walkie-talkie."

Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief, a smile appearing on his face: "Thank you, Jill Valentine. With your help, our chances of success will be much higher."