Chapter 98: Chloe Valentine

Rust from the iron ladder flaked onto her shoulders. Chloe stepped off the last rung, her boots crunching into the half-inch thick sludge with a squelching sound.

The underground of The Orphanage was colder and more damp than she remembered. The air was a mix of mold, rust, and a faint metallic scent of blood, like a coffin that had been sealed for eight years.

The emergency lights overhead had long since failed. Only a few flickering bulbs in the distance cast distorted, swaying shadows against the walls.

Her right eye automatically adjusted its focus in the darkness, allowing her to see every detail within a hundred meters clearly. However, the pure white pupil of her left eye remained lifeless, only able to perceive vague heat signatures.

Eight years ago, she had followed this very tunnel to reach the deeper levels of the Ark Laboratory.

The blade-claws at Chloe's fingertips slightly extended and then retracted. Her virus-enhanced perception spread out like a spiderweb. There were only two clear life signals in the entire underground space: one was as weak as a candle in the wind, huddled behind the iron bars at the corner ahead; the other was violent, twisted, and carried the familiar scent of the G-Virus, slowly moving this way.

She lightened her footsteps, approaching the corner as silently as a cat. Behind the iron bars, a little blonde girl was curled up in a corner, hugging her knees. She was soaking wet, her shoulders trembling slightly, and she clutched a tattered rag doll tightly in her hands.

Hearing the footsteps, Sherry suddenly looked up. The moment she saw Chloe, her pupils constricted sharply. She screamed and scrambled back, her back pressing hard against the cold wall: "Don't come any closer! Stay away!"

Chloe stopped and slowly raised her hands to show she was unarmed. She deliberately softened her voice, trying to sound as harmless as possible: "Don't be afraid. I'm not a zombie."

But her current appearance was hardly "harmless." Her silver-white hair clung wetly to her cheeks, three sharp grey-white horns protruded from the left side of her forehead, her left eye was a pupil-less porcelain white, and half-inch-long silver-white blade-claws peeked from her fingertips. Her tattered combat suit was covered in dried blood and mud—she looked every bit like a monster that had crawled out of hell.

Sherry bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, but she stared at her, refusing to let down her guard. Chloe fell silent for a few seconds, then slowly walked to the bars and reached out her right hand through the cold iron. Her palm carried the normal body temperature of a human, and it was even slightly warm from climbing the ladder.

"Touch it and see," she said softly. "Zombies are cold. I'm not."

Sherry hesitated for a long time. Looking into Chloe's calm eyes, she finally reached out a small, trembling hand and lightly touched her palm. The sensation of warmth came through, forming a sharp contrast with her own icy fingers. The little girl's tense body relaxed significantly, and her tears finally began to fall.

"Your eye..." Sherry asked in a small voice, her finger pointing timidly at Chloe's left eye. "Can you not see?"

Chloe smiled, a hint of playfulness flashing in her eyes. "I can see. This is the Sharingan; it can see through the weaknesses of all monsters."

Sherry was stunned for a moment, then she broke into a laugh through her tears, wiping them away with the back of her hand. Chloe smiled along with her and reached out to gently ruffle her blonde hair. "My name is Chloe. What's yours?"

"My name is Sherry Birkin," the little girl replied obediently, then tilted her head curiously. "Does Chloe not have a last name?"

Chloe's smile faltered.

A last name?

From the first day she had transmigrated here, she only had numbers. Number 703, Number S01, experimental subject, vessel. Even the name Chloe was something she knew from playing games in her previous life. No one had ever given her a surname, and no one had ever treated her like a real human being.

But she thought of Jill. She thought of the woman in the dark blue combat suit, the light blue floral dress she had bought for her, the gentle look in her eyes when she held the adoption application, and her saying, "From now on, I am your family."

As if possessed, she spoke, her voice as light as a breeze yet carrying an unprecedented determination:

"My name is Chloe Valentine."

Sherry nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite, and didn't press further. Chloe let go of her hand and glanced around as if casually, her gaze falling on the wall at the end of the corridor that had been sealed with concrete.

Eight years ago, that was the main passage leading to the underground chapel and the Ark Laboratory. Now, it had become a seamless, solid wall without even a crack.

She placed her hand against the wall, her fingertips meeting a cold, hard surface. Her perception probed into the structure; it was entirely solid reinforced concrete, with no hollow spaces.

It seemed that after the riot of the experimental subjects at The Orphanage, the Umbrella Corporation had completely severed the connection between The Orphanage and the Ark Laboratory, sealing all entrances. Her original plan to bypass this area and head to The Ark to find elpis was completely ruined.

"How did you end up here?" Chloe withdrew her hand and turned to ask Sherry, her tone as natural as if she truly knew nothing.

At the mention of this, Sherry's face grew a few shades paler. She whispered, "Mom told me to go to the police station for safety, but that mean Chief caught me. Later, a very scary monster broke in, and the Chief ran away, so I hid here. There's also an older sister named Claire; she promised to take me to find my mom."

Just as she finished speaking, Claire's anxious shouts came from the distance, piercing the darkness and echoing through the empty corridor: "Sherry? Sherry, where are you?"

"Claire!" Sherry's eyes lit up, and she immediately grabbed the iron bars and shouted, "I'm here! Claire!"

Footsteps quickly approached. Claire rushed over, holding a flashlight. Seeing that Sherry was unharmed, her tense nerves finally relaxed, and she let out a long sigh of relief.

But when the beam of her flashlight swept over Chloe behind Sherry, her expression instantly changed. She abruptly raised her handgun, the muzzle aimed steadily at Chloe's chest: "Who are you?!"

Chloe instinctively turned her body, hiding the mutated left side of her face in the shadows, revealing only her delicate right profile. She looked at Claire, her tone carrying a trace of imperceptible complexity: "Claire Redfield?"

Claire's pupils constricted, and her grip on the gun tightened: "How do you know my name?"

"Claire, don't!" Sherry hurriedly stood in front of Chloe, spreading her small arms to protect her. "Big sister Chloe is a good person; she didn't hurt me!"

Chloe stepped out of the shadows slightly, not answering the question but instead asking softly, "Are you here looking for your brother, Chris?"

These words were like a thunderbolt striking Claire's heart. She looked at Chloe in shock, her flashlight beam wobbling involuntarily and falling on her silver-white hair.

This hair... this face...

She suddenly remembered the Polaroid she had seen in the S.T.A.R.S. office. The girl in the photo was wearing a light blue floral dress, holding a strawberry ice cream, her eyes curved in a smile. She had the same striking silver-white hair.

"You... you're the survivor from the Arklay Incident?" Claire's voice trembled slightly as she slowly lowered her handgun. "The photo on Jill's desk... it was you?"

Chloe nodded and finally stopped hiding, revealing her entire face.

Claire gasped. When she saw the white pupil of her left eye and the horns on her forehead, she instinctively took half a step back. She immediately realized her rudeness and apologized with a face full of guilt: "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to, your face..."

"It's okay." Chloe smiled indifferently, reaching up to touch the horns on her forehead. "The virus caused it. There's still hope for a cure."

She didn't say anything more and turned to take Sherry's hand. "It's not safe here. That monster will be here soon. Let's leave first. I know of an elevator that leads to the deeper laboratory; your mother should be there."

Claire watched her back as she led Sherry away, a wave of bitterness rising in her heart. Chloe looked only about fifteen or sixteen years old—an age where she should have been wearing a school uniform and studying in a classroom—yet she had been tortured into this state by the Umbrella Corporation.

She thought of the "Arklay Incident" described so casually in Chris's report, and finally understood how much unknown pain and despair were hidden behind those light words.

The three of them walked down the corridor. Chloe led the way, her steps light, constantly alert to their surroundings. Claire followed at the rear, holding her flashlight to light the path, her gaze frequently falling on Chloe's back with mixed emotions.

Soon, they reached the end of the corridor, where a rust-stained elevator appeared. The elevator doors were halfway open, the interior covered in dust, and the indicator lights on the control panel flickered weakly.

"This is it." Chloe let go of Sherry's hand and gestured for them to go in first. "This elevator goes straight to the laboratory on the third basement level."

Sherry was the first to enter the elevator, and Claire followed. Turning around, she realized Chloe was still standing outside, her brow furrowed and her eyes sharply scanning the dark corridor.

"Chloe?" Claire called out in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Chloe didn't answer. Every muscle in her body was tensed, and the blade-claws at her fingertips were fully extended. The smell of blood in the air suddenly became intense, and an extremely violent aura rapidly approached from the darkness behind them, so fast it was almost impossible to react.

Chloe jerked to the side, trying to dodge the attack, but she was a step too late.

A massive claw covered in black scales burst from the darkness with a whistling wind, savagely impaling her left shoulder!

Intense pain instantly surged through her body. Chloe let out a muffled groan and used the force of the claw to wrench herself backward, tearing herself free from the tips of the claws. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking her combat suit.

She stumbled back a few steps, leaning against the elevator door, and looked up at the figure slowly emerging from the darkness.

William Birkin had evolved into his g2 form. His body was even more twisted and taller than in G1. His original right arm had completely transformed into a massive claw, and a hideous small head had grown out of his shoulder, dripping saliva and letting out low growls. His skin was an unhealthy bluish-purple, his veins bulging like earthworms, and his entire body emitted a nauseating stench of rot.

Seeing this scene, Sherry began to tremble violently inside the elevator, tears instantly pouring out. She looked at the familiar yet strange figure, her voice choked with sobs as she cried out that word in disbelief:

"Daddy?"