Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

the next morning.

Fog rose in the valley.

White mist rose from the river, swirling among the treetops and enveloping the entire campsite in a semi-transparent veil. The air was damp and cool, carrying the scent of grass and earth.

He Yuanchao woke up before dawn.

To be precise, he barely slept. He switched shifts with Payton in the latter half of the night, and managed to doze off for less than an hour while leaning against a large rock before being woken up by birdsong.

He went to the river and washed his face.

The river water was icy cold, which made him shiver, but it immediately perked him up.

When they returned to the camp, most of the people had already woken up.

Some people were boiling water, while others were eating leftover rations. Angela squatted by the river, poking grasshoppers in the cracks of the rocks with a twig; it was probably the first time in days that she had acted like a child.

He Yuanchao stood still by the campfire.

He didn't rush to assign tasks.

Instead, they had Gil bring Kane over.

Kane's hands were still bound. After a night of turmoil, he looked even more disheveled—his eyes were sunken, his lips were chapped, and his dark blue suit was covered in wrinkles and stains.

Jill and Payton, one on each side, pushed him onto the open ground in front of the campfire.

All thirty-one people turned their attention to this.

Some people are still not quite sure who this disheveled man is.

But others know—especially those who have seen armored vehicles and fully armed soldiers with their own eyes.

"This is Major Kane." He Yuanchao's voice wasn't loud, but it carried far across the riverbank shrouded in morning mist.

"Umbrella Corporation's security manager for the Raccoon City region."

"Simply put, he was one of the perpetrators of this disaster."

The camp fell silent.

Even those who were still chewing their food stopped eating.

He Yuanchao took out the high-capacity memory card copied from the Hive database from the inside pocket of his bulletproof vest and inserted it into the captured military tablet computer.

The tablet screen lit up.

He turned the screen to everyone.

"It's okay if you don't know him. Let these things tell you who he is."

The first document is a scanned copy of a signed document.

"Hive Area B Live Experiment Approval Form. Experiment subjects: Raccoon City municipal system staff, numbered BT-447 to BT-612. Approver—" He Yuanchao pointed to the signature at the bottom of the document, "Kane, Major T."

"These numbers represent 165 people. Ordinary people. The kind who work at city hall during the day and come home to eat and take care of their children in the evening. He signed this document, and these people were stuffed into incubation tanks, injected with the T-virus, and turned into monsters."

Someone in the crowd gasped.

Kane's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he ultimately did not speak.

The second file is a surveillance video.

The image shows a checkpoint on the outskirts of Raccoon City. The timestamp is four days ago—the day the city began its complete fall.

In the footage, a group of civilians are desperately running towards the checkpoint. Some are driving, some are on foot, and some are carrying children. They are crying, shouting, and pleading for help.

A row of Umbrella soldiers in black uniforms stood in front of the roadblock at the checkpoint.

Then a voice came through the communication channel—clear, emotionless, like a routine command being issued:

"Any civilian attempting to breach the blockade line will be killed on sight."

Then came the sound of gunfire.

Dense, unwavering gunfire.

One by one, the people running in the video fell to the ground. The car was wrecked, the tires burst, and it overturned on the side of the road.

A woman holding a child was kneeling in front of a roadblock, covered in blood, and shouting something unintelligible.

Then a bullet pierced her head.

The child rolled onto the ground.

The video was paused at this point by He Yuanchao.

No one in the camp made a sound anymore.

The young mother—the one who had run all the way from the basement of Raccoon City, carrying her baby and surviving—stood on the edge of the crowd, trembling.

Her lips moved several times.

Then she came out.

He walked up to Kane.

My husband—

Her voice sounded rough, as if it had been sanded with sandpaper, so rough it was heartbreaking.

"My husband was beaten to death by your men at the checkpoint."

"He just wanted to get us out of here."

"He had no weapons. He had nothing."

"He's just an air conditioner repairman."

As she finished speaking her last words, tears streamed down her face.

But she didn't say another word.

She retreated back into the crowd.

He Yuanchao turned off the tablet.

He looked at Kane.

"Do you want to defend yourself?"

Kane's jaw tightened.

His light gray eyes looked like two dirty pieces of glass in the morning mist.

"I was carrying out a legal order."

This was the first and last sentence he uttered.

Because the bald firefighter had already stood up, axe in hand.

"Legal?" The bald man's voice sounded like he was chewing pebbles. "My three brothers all died in the mouths of those monsters. You tell me what you mean by legal?"

The convenience store owner also stepped forward: "My wife, a 73-year-old woman, was torn to pieces by zombies. She'd never even stepped on an ant in her entire life. Whom did your 'legitimate orders' protect?"

The two high school students did not speak.

But one of them made a crisp cracking sound with his knuckles when he clenched his fist.

He Yuanchao raised his hand.

Everyone fell silent.

"I am not a judge. There are no more judges in this world."

"But rules still need to be in place."

"Vote now. Those who vote in favor of execution, raise your hands."

Thirty hands were raised at the same time.

He Yuanchao counted them once.

thirty.

Not a single vote was wrong.

Even the old pastor—the old man who stitched up wounded soldiers in the church basement while reciting the Bible—raised his hand.

After he finished lifting it, he made the sign of the cross.

He Yuanchao nodded.

"Alright."