Infinity, progressing from Arasaka

The eyeball of its further enlarged right arm shattered with a thud, and the connection point of the arm, which had evolved into a giant claw, exploded into a cloud of blood mist. The G-creature lost its bearings and crashed heavily into the building wall. After a muffled thud, rubble and dust flew everywhere as it fell and slammed heavily to the ground.

“In the past, to ensure that the single shot hit the target, they had to take into account many factors that could affect the trajectory. Today, the integrated observation helmet, after inputting target information and magnified images, will automatically calculate the deviation of the firing trajectory when combined with a specialized optical sight and ballistic compensator.”

As the MSF commander explained, at the rooftop sniping position, two former Umbrella soldiers, now using advanced military technology, wearing cool one-piece helmets, expressionlessly pulled the massive triggers in their hands once again.

Two deafening gunshots rang out.

The tungsten nail bullets pierced the air at astonishing speed and slammed into the fallen G creature. One bullet hit G's head, while the other hit the spot where traces of withered yellow hair could be faintly seen, belonging to William Birkin's head.

At the moment of impact, the ground beneath G-Beast seemed to be struck by a heavy hammer, instantly cracking open. The impact of the bullet left a deep, charred bullet hole in G-Beast's body, surrounded by layers of cracked flesh.

"This is a prototype electromagnetic weapon. Although it is far from meeting the requirements for individual soldier carrying in terms of lightweight design, it is sufficient."

"Next, we will demonstrate the long-range firing stability and continuity of the Military Technology Type 1 heavy machine gun. It uses .0.70 caliber programmable fin-stabilized discarding sabot armor-piercing rounds, and as long as you can observe it, its effective range exceeds 4000 meters..."

bang bang bang-

“300米-10米内，是阿贾克斯1型突击步枪、防御者1型轻机枪、战术家1型霰||弹枪...的依次演示。”

...

"That's ridiculous..."

tick.

In the dimly lit cable car tunnel, an Asian woman with short, black hair and wearing a white lab coat worn by Umbrella researchers jumped off the elevator platform and entered the underground research institute built by Umbrella for William Birkin's research on viruses. She found the entrance guardhouse in a state of disarray.

The once pristine steel structure was riddled with dents, and several sparking cables hung from the cracked ceiling, crackling and hissing, while a shrunken warning siren continued to sound.

"As expected of a genius destined to lead Umbrella's transformation into an arms empire, this muzzle energy..."

The remaining half of BOW's body, no longer recognizable, was still stuck to the wall. Its head and torso had been blasted with several large, charred holes by some new type of weapon. The pipes buried deep inside the wall were severely damaged, and the exploding blood splattered all over the wall.

The lights flickered on and off.

Along the way, the walls were riddled with bullet holes, as if the smell of gunpowder had not completely dissipated. Large-caliber shell casings, broken glass, and bloody chunks of flesh from BOW mutants were scattered on the ground deck, making it impossible to find a place to step.

The smell of disinfectant, rotting flesh, and burnt corpses mixed in with the air, making the woman feel somewhat uncomfortable.

She continued forward, her pointed high heels kicking away several bright yellow bullet casings.

"They swept it up really cleanly."

The Asian woman quickly scanned the security monitoring room of the underground research institute and found that none of the surveillance cameras were working properly.

That U... no, now it should be called the MSF force, that Vera Adelheid, didn't leave her a single drop of soup.

Without even going down to check, the woman could guess that the other party would never let go of the virus samples and information below.

She had been waiting at the entrance of the underground research institute for a long time, witnessing firsthand the group of fully armed MSF soldiers go down, followed by gunfire and explosions, before finally returning to the surface carrying large and small bags of military-grade sealed metal boxes.

Aside from a handful of surviving researchers, even William Birkin's partner, Annie Birkin, was forcibly abducted. During the abduction, Annie Birkin struggled and hurled insults, seemingly trying to save Dr. William, who had turned into a monster. She was then hit with a rifle butt and sedated with a drug before being carried away.

"Tsk tsk... They really don't know how to cherish women."

The woman took out her phone and dialed.

"The first objective failed; the underground research facility was cleared out by MSF personnel. I got in safely, but the self-destruct mechanism has already been activated. I don't have time to go down and thoroughly search the area..."

"As you expected, after legally breaking away from Umbrella, that woman dispatched more MSF troops, some to participate in the rescue, but more to demonstrate strength. Umbrella's UBCS has surrendered as a whole, and the firefight between the USS and US special forces has also ceased and shifted under their suppression."

"Our second target, Shirley Birkin, should be our only chance."

"Or maybe I'll go scavenge the bodies. It seems that the mutated Dr. William Birkin was used as an arms exhibition by that woman. I can see a lot of heavy weaponry being transferred to the school district... Oh? Raccoon City will be burned to the ground on the 28th? Okay, I understand."

"Two days is enough."

After finishing her sentence and hanging up the phone, the woman in red took off her researcher's white coat and glanced at the underground research institute where the warning lights were already illuminating. She returned to the elevator platform, took out the grappling hook gun from her waist, and fired the grappling hook at the tunnel's dome structure.

Swish.

The woman in red leaped into the air.

All that remained was the empty underground research institute and the increasingly urgent warning sounds.

...

Chris, exhausted after a night and a half of sweeping through Umbrella's Raccoon City headquarters and general hospital, returned to the MSF outpost in the west of the city to replenish his ammunition.

"Chris Redfield, congratulations, well done."

This was the greeting he heard as soon as he returned to the outpost.

"What?"

Since arriving in Raccoon City on the evening of the 25th, Chris has been engaged in combat, either frantically fighting zombies, retrieving remaining evidence of Umbrella's crimes in Raccoon City, or rescuing people. After a night without rest, Chris took off his helmet, chugging mineral water while showing a puzzled expression.

Why do you all look at me like that?

Even the survivors who were pale and dazed when they were rescued looked up and gave him heartfelt smiles and thanks.

"Where is Captain Andrelov?"

He looked around and asked, then threw down his backpack.

These were all found by him in the various administrator offices of the Umbrella facilities and urban emergency facilities.

Just like in the past when it took one night and half a day, every time he returned to replenish ammunition and change the barrel, he would bring a large bag of evidence: such as evidence of secretly conducting experiments on living people, and evidence that they clearly knew in advance that the drinking water was contaminated.

Chris, on the other hand, seemed tireless, taking the matter very seriously and enjoying it immensely. He never rested and never paid attention to anything else.

"The leader has led the team to search for survivors; the Executor has changed the mission objective."

The MSF squad leader at the outpost stepped forward and skillfully took Chris's backpack. He weighed it in his hand and said with a sigh, "Brother Redfield, congratulations. You've succeeded and become a hero of the Federation."

"???"

As Chris grew increasingly confused, the other party handed him a portable tablet computer, on which:

"All of Umbrella's activities have been declared illegal. Congress has passed a sanctions and freeze bill against Umbrella. Director Vera Adelhead has announced that the reorganization of Umbrella's California branch and USA region has been legalized!!"

Chris snatched the portable tablet, squatted on the ammunition box, and watched the recorded video of Vera's speech on Capitol Hill. He felt a mix of emotions, especially the fact that she had told her story to the nation and the world.

Although Vera did not alter or embellish his behavior, he still felt that something was amiss.

I can't quite pinpoint where it is.

Moreover, the widespread discussion and praise surrounding him, this kind of fame, was definitely not his intention.

Chris thought of his fallen comrades.

"At least, it was a success, wasn't it? Those bastards at Umbrella's Paris headquarters will pay the price..." He couldn't hold back, whether it was from exhaustion or something else, his eyes were inexplicably moist.

Chris then put the tablet aside, rubbed his eyes as if that would relieve the physical and mental fatigue. Two seconds later, he opened his bloodshot eyes, got up, and continued to organize his equipment while eating compressed biscuits.

"There's enough evidence for both the House and Senate to pass it, you might even get a medal... Hey, what are you going to do?"

"Continue with the mission."

Chris replenished his ammunition, loaded the grenade launcher, and slung a light rocket launcher over his shoulder. He then jumped off the outpost and, without turning back, said:

“I don’t trust them. Umbrella could still overturn the verdict. And didn’t your director say that searching for survivors is my job as a former STARS member?”

Holy crap, this guy is like a god of war.

The MSF sentry squad commander was immediately filled with awe.

This guy is a real man, not the kind of coward who's just hyped up by public opinion.

After all, their MSF is a private armed force that strictly adheres to regulations. They do their best to save people, but they can't risk their lives like Chris did.

They're not a trauma squad. While it's possible to make them fight for days and nights on end, it's unnecessary. Rotating and resting is essential to maintaining combat effectiveness and can effectively prevent casualties.

“Hey Redfield, here, this should be helpful to you.”

Chris turned around and caught it.

"What is this?" He examined the green and white object in his hand, which looked like an asthma inhaler.

"Qinglizhi Type 1, you can also think of it as a variant of combat stimulant. It's an experimental product and far from being commercially available. It can effectively reduce fatigue."

"Thanks."

After accepting the package, Chris set off again with the MSF rescue team, who had taken their turn to rest.

The section of Raccoon Avenue connecting to Arklay Scenic Boulevard in the west of the city has been cleared time and again. The road conditions here are wide open and the surrounding buildings are square, making it the best place to set up firepower. An M2 heavy machine gun at a suitable high point is enough to block out most of the block.

Scattered zombies staggered towards this side from various alleys, but none of them posed a threat. Chris skillfully dodged the zombie that lunged at him and then shot it in the head, smashing it to pieces.

He ignored the zombies coming from other directions, and the MSF squad around him skillfully dealt with them.

Along the way, the remains of colliding vehicles, collapsed buildings, and mangled corpses were still faintly visible, along with the wreckage of the large groups of BOWs and mutant bio-monsters that MSF had killed in cooperation last night.

Fragmented.

The body was riddled with bullet holes and charred marks, and there was a large puddle of black wreckage. There were trackers, T-103 Tyrants, zombie dogs, Lickers that looked like skinned corpses, and hunters that looked like green lizards...

"There will be a few showers tonight, hmm, artificial rain mixed with T-virus inhibitors... Director, you're really quick."

"We must evacuate Raccoon City by the evening of the 27th... Director... no, I should call him Executive Officer now, Executive Officer Russell has issued instructions that the military will begin carpet bombing of Raccoon City at 6 PM on the 27th, and the nuclear bomb will be dropped at 6 AM on the 28th..."

"Heh, as expected. Given the situation in Raccoon City, we might as well just nuke it..."

"Tsk, is North America going to get a nuclear bomb too?"

Leaving Raccoon Street through side streets and alleys, several MSF soldiers exchanged simple yet wary words along the way.

There wasn't much sadness about Raccoon City being bombed by nuclear weapons in his words.

After listening to his comrades-in-arms talk all night, Chris, who was leading the charge, felt somewhat irritated.

They showed no respect for their own country, yet held an extraordinary reverence for Director Vera. He always felt this was wrong.

Umbrella...

Just then, "Wait a minute, Redfield."

The MSF soldier carrying a communicator suddenly interrupted Chris's reverie: "Valentine's message, do you have a sister named Claire?"

"Claire?"