Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

Some parts were decaying, some were fresh, and the old computer on the reception desk showed clear signs of recent use—undoubtedly, someone had been in this police station not long ago. But as Celine reached out to examine the computer's activity, she discovered she had a better strategy.

There were survivors here—she heard faint breathing behind the screen with her deliberately suppressed hearing.

[Very somber and weak, he must be seriously injured—I don't think this guy is that rookie Leon, but he might have clues about him—hehe, this feels more like a role-playing game!]

As Celine thought to herself, her feet moved instinctively past the screen blocking her way and to the very back of the hall. The first thing she saw was a magnificently decorated statue of a goddess, positioned directly beneath the center of two staircases. In front of the statue were some odds and ends and a long bench—a black police officer, his abdomen covered in blood, lay unconscious on the bench, a police pistol clutched in his hand, and an old-fashioned portable computer beside him, still powered on. He was severely injured, covered in a cold sweat, and his body temperature was abnormally high. In Celine's estimation, he would probably die in ten minutes at most. Even if he didn't die from illness, his fever would likely cause his head to burn to death.

There's no need to worry about a dying man suddenly jumping up. Sirin glanced at the unconscious man and easily spotted the nameplate hanging on his chest, as well as the name Marvin, which was mostly blurred by blood but still legible.

Without much thought, Celine pulled out the antidote for the zombie virus she had concocted by hand from her pocket (she didn't yet 'know' the virus was called T), and injected the guy who wouldn't live for more than a few minutes. As the drug quickly took effect, the officer's body temperature began to drop rapidly, a testament to his good fortune.

[If I hadn't come here, this Marvin would undoubtedly be dead. I believe he'd be a middle-aged man, kind of like a tutorial character. The equipment and intelligence should have already been sent out. Hmm, after all, lovely Sirin doesn't like tragedies… Although, according to my character, I can't completely eradicate the virus in Raccoon City right now, I should at least start small.]

The girl thought to herself, then casually tossed the empty syringe into the trash can. She picked up the black sheriff's portable computer and began fiddling with it—the operating system of this era was rather rudimentary for her. In just a few seconds, she accessed the police station's internal surveillance system through the computer and easily retrieved the most recent hard drive footage.

She quickly found the rookie officer, who should be Leon S. Kennedy, in the records.

[…So this guy only arrived half an hour before me. Hmm, even though he's a newbie, his marksmanship is pretty good.] She fast-forwarded, watching the guy in the leather jacket cautiously walk in through the door. Then he quickly progressed, deciphering puzzles and opening door after door. When faced with attacking zombies, he killed them all with a single shot—his change into a Raccoon City police uniform after meeting the black officer Marvin confirmed his identity for Celine—and his subsequent combat performance further confirmed her suspicions.

This young man, barely in his early twenties with his parted hair, is definitely the protagonist. No one but the protagonist could execute such a swift and decisive cleanup. Judging from the video, during his exploration of the police station, he wiped out every single zombie, took all the supplies, and virtually all the friendly characters he encountered—except for a woman in red who was temporarily detained outside the back door of the police station due to a fire alarm—were also completely wiped out. If he's not the protagonist, then this world is far too insane.

It is absolutely impossible for a nobody without luck to kill a super strong, agile, and even ceiling-crawling red muscle monster with a dagger when suddenly attacked, using the physical strength of an ordinary person!

Celine was certain of her judgment. But when she saw this supposedly protagonist effortlessly unravel the many mysteries of this place—more of an adventure park than a police station—and open a secret elevator leading underground right in front of the goddess statue, she felt she might need to change her strategy.

The character design... needs to be changed.

Celine thought to herself, and she realized that her new persona seemed to need to be put into use immediately—because just as she was looking at the surveillance footage on her computer, the unconscious black police officer had woken up and was quietly tightening his grip on the police pistol that was already in his hand.

Section 7: The Overabundance of FXI [11/19]

“I suggest you remove your hand there; my help wasn’t given for nothing.” Sirin quickly assumed a new identity and prepared a new character card. She continued browsing the hard drive recording on the screen, her tone slightly cold and enigmatic. “To save you, I had to use a precious injection; I hope you’ll be worthy of my sacrifice.”

Celine's new identity was that of a federal agent, a secret agent with an FBI badge. After all, in America, the FBI's presence was ubiquitous—she had dealt with them in a previous world where her power was restricted, and had some understanding of their methods and tactics.

Federal agents operate with anonymity. Verifying their identity, even with identification, requires a lengthy bureaucratic process lasting at least two months. Therefore, if the identification is authentic enough, even a genuine agent present wouldn't be able to deny their identity quickly enough. After all, this official internal organization is rife with covert missions and assignments; there's no rule prohibiting the FBI from sending multiple agents to a region, nor is there a rule against agents carrying high-tech gadgets.

Her assigned mission was to investigate the unusual infection phenomenon in Raccoon City and try to stop it from worsening. When the black police officer opened his eyes at her words, a freshly made, hand-stamped detective badge was pulled from her pocket and displayed to the guy named Marvin—she swore this was the last time she'd recreate his character card.

“Detective Celine?” The black police officer, intimidated by the badge, nodded without suspicion, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips, signifying the elimination of most doubts. “As you can see, I am a sheriff here. My name is Marvin. While I am grateful for your treatment, Raccoon City is in this state now, and you have come far too late.”

He glanced at the wound on his waist that had mostly healed, and felt the hunger in his stomach disappear, confirming that he had escaped the deadly plague.

He breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "Has the authorities developed a cure yet?"

“No.” Sirin replied calmly (maintaining this expression was actually very difficult for her), “The injection I gave you only temporarily strengthened your immunity and increased your cell activity. What saved you was your own body, and had nothing to do with the special medicine.”

"My reason?"

“That’s right, it’s because of you. Because most people would die from the virus in one to five minutes after being bitten, and then be resurrected as zombies. The fact that you were able to hold on until I came to save you means that you have a considerable degree of resistance to this virus innately. My medicine only temporarily strengthened the resistance in your body—and that kind of medicine is very rare, and its actual purpose is not to resist disease.”

“Understood,” the Black officer replied. Although he was taken aback by the ID, he carefully examined the freshly taken photo, comparing Celine with the FBI agents he remembered encountering, and concluded that ‘this guy is most likely the real deal.’ He struggled to his feet, took a piece of unmarked chocolate that Celine casually tossed to him, and took a deep breath.

“Is there anything I can do for you, madam?” he asked.

“My task is to investigate everything that’s happened here and make sure it doesn’t get any worse,” Celine replied. “I’ve got some leads, but some things are still uncertain. Through certain channels, I’ve been able to ascertain that there’s something in this police station that interests me. After all…” She pressed a key on her mobile computer keyboard.

The next moment, a faint, unstable crackling sound came from the surrounding lights. Immediately afterwards, the dim lighting turned bright, most of the lights that had been turned off in the police station were turned back on, and the blocked passages were opened.

“Someone is monitoring this police station through an internal network and is hiding some secrets. I don’t know the specifics of these secrets, but my gut feeling tells me they can be of great help to my mission—could you assist me and provide some intelligence so I can complete this task, Sergeant Marvin?”

"Secret? Surveillance!?" The black police officer's eyes widened suddenly, and from his expression, a despicable name seemed to emerge: "It's Irons! That's right! It must be him. I was wondering why the heavy weapons hadn't been distributed yet, and why the personnel allocation was so strange—it turns out this guy was behind it all!"

“Aines?” Celine’s years of role-playing experience kicked in immediately. Although she didn’t know who this guy named Aines was, she could tell from Marvin’s tone that he was probably a famous person. So she showed just the right amount of doubt and disbelief on her face. Then, deliberately drawing out her words, she asked, “He’s not…”

“That bastard's already gone! Damn it… I should have known. If it weren't for him, the chief, pulling strings behind the scenes, we wouldn't have lost so many people…” He abruptly turned his head, his eyes filled with anxiety as he looked down at the sealed statue of the goddess. “Damn it, Leon's still down there. That's definitely Irons's secret base… We have to hurry—”

He ran to the statue of the goddess and fiddled with it vigorously. Judging from his agile movements, you would never guess that just a few minutes ago he was a seriously injured person with one foot in the grave.

So, the reason only one officer remained in the Raccoon City Police Department was because of this chief causing trouble behind the scenes? Yes, the police department is a vital force in maintaining order. If they weren't dealt with early, it would have taken a considerable amount of time for the virus to spread and cover the entire city—plus, Lyon has a special mission to obtain the G-virus—I understand now, it was all the work of this company called Umbrella. The chief was one of theirs, and there must be an Umbrella research facility nearby. And that elevator connected to the statue…

This is troublesome, at least for her current public image. However, it's not terrible yet.

[…Phew, I think I'm pretty smart after all. Even though I usually make mistakes, I can't afford to fall into the same trap on a vacation like this. But I'd better bring this survivor along.]

[However, the passage corresponding to this goddess statue is quite in the way...] She watched Marvin rush to the goddess statue, pushing and shoving, and throwing a tantrum at the circular indentations at the very front of the statue—having watched the hard drive recording, she knew very well that the guy named Leon had opened the passage by placing three coins with specific markings on the statue. And as he left, the passage closed again due to some kind of mechanism inside.

What should she do? Kicking the ground apart would certainly be a suitable option. But that would mean the role-playing trick had completely failed. However, the clever Sirin wouldn't be stumped by a problem of this magnitude. She pushed aside the bewildered Marvin, went to the statue, and tapped the groove with her finger.

Given its solid structure and the style of the decoration, it's clear that the base of this statue doesn't contain complex integrated circuits or sophisticated gravity-sensing components. However, when her finger brushed across a certain area, she clearly sensed tiny iron filings being attracted to the top.

[Electromagnetic induction; this mechanism is activated by magnetism. Those three coins must contain natural magnets. Given the technological level of this era, it should just be simple magnetism, not an overly complex operating mechanism—at worst, we can just disassemble this platform and piece it back together!] Sirin concluded to herself. She thought for a moment, realizing that she couldn't possibly handcraft a set of magnet pieces without abandoning her persona. So she turned her head to look at the other available manpower.

Do you know where there are magnets?

Section 8. Trucks are good, but the group is stuck.

While a Russian girl, passionate about role-playing, finished creating her 'Sirin Character Card Ver. 3.0' and poured all her energy and interest into this zombie role-playing game themed around a relaxing vacation, somewhere in East Asia, in a large international trading city, other reincarnators were living a different kind of vacation life.

........................

Zhang Jie appeared silently at the foot of a landmark tower in the city, gazing up at its distinctive structure where columns and spheres interlock. As his gaze moved upward, the tower's 333-meter-high spire came into view.

"Tokyo Tower. A world-famous tower—if I hadn't entered the cycle of reincarnation, I probably would never have been able to stand beneath it in this lifetime. But now… oh well, it doesn't matter, it's another way of fulfilling a dream." He reached out and pulled a cigarette from the air—a cheap brand, a two-dollar pack of soft white sand. After lighting it, the inferior smoke quietly dissipated, then was instantly blown away by the passing wind.

Many years ago, when he was just a regular soldier, he used to dream during breaks in his rigorous training of driving a tank or armored vehicle, or at the very least, carrying an assault rifle and wearing epaulets, fully armed, into the city. Then he could brazenly write "Zhang Jie was here" at the foot of a tower, a shrine, or a palace, and take a picture—though he knew it was just a dream, and he never actually left the country until he was discharged due to injury. But now, as this old wish has been fulfilled unexpectedly, his heart hasn't been stirred much.

Zhang Jie knew very well that he was no longer the person he used to be. He had been crippled once, died once, and then lived again. The dreams of the past, which may have been naive, exaggerated, flamboyant, or passionate, had lost their meaning now that they were within his grasp. Even though he could change everything simply by reaching out, he had no intention of lifting those not-so-heavy fingertips.

He still remembered the fluttering red flag, and the vows made beneath it. But time had passed, and those words now seemed pale and powerless in his heart. Yet, this paleness and powerlessness meant that the memories hadn't completely faded—he knew he still wanted to do something for those past memories, but he hesitated before making a decision.

Contradiction—Psychic beings are always caught in contradictions amidst subtle shifts in their minds. Their beliefs and dreams are both their source of power and their fatal weakness. Yet, because they are masters of manipulating minds, even their vulnerabilities appear far stronger than others, and these vulnerabilities are heavily protected and disguised. This allows them to eliminate or conceal these dangerous Achilles' heels to the greatest extent possible.

Zhang Jie is aware of his weaknesses, and he knows just how fatal they are to him—if a storyline like A Nightmare on Elm Street were to unfold again, the probability of him dying would likely be greater than eight out of ten. However, knowing his weaknesses doesn't mean he can overcome them. Just as he could easily turn half of Tokyo into a ghost town with a single stomp or a snap of his fingers, he wouldn't do it. He also doesn't know what kind of changes would occur if he fulfilled or destroyed those small, cherished wishes from the past.

Some pedestrians pointed and whispered at him, but he ignored them.

Tourists speaking various foreign languages ​​passed by him, but he paid no attention.

He simply finished the cheap cigarette in silence, then switched to another one, finished that one, took out a third one, and then walked up to the TV tower in front of him.

He didn't take the unconventional approach of walking up the tower step by step from the outside, nor did he use his mental abilities to confuse everyone in his way and then slip inside like a shadow—he simply queued normally, bought a ticket, and then extinguished his third cigarette as he entered the observation elevator. Then, like a normal tourist, he watched the scenery outside the elevator gradually ascend.

The elevator here is fast; it only takes a minute to travel over a hundred meters. The slight feeling of g-force caused the passengers inside to gasp in various ways—Zhang Jie ignored them and didn't do anything out of the ordinary. He simply gazed quietly into the distance, then pulled his gaze back down to his feet.

Beneath my feet, the city seemed as chaotic yet insignificant as a giant anthill. The afternoon sun shone on the ground, and the dense traffic resembled a black ant colony carrying food and sawdust—complex, chaotic, yet with order within the chaos, and fragility revealed within that order.

Zhang Jie suddenly had an urge to unleash a full-force mental storm downwards. He wanted to destroy the ant nest, to pour boiling water over the busy ant colony, to see them in chaos, to see them scream, to see them flee in despair, uttering desperate cries, and then fall into the abyss of death, with nowhere to escape.

— Doing so might be a mistake.

But who decides what is right?

Law? Morality? But what's the point? What right do rules devised by a group of ants bind a giant, simply because the giant was once an ant? If so, what use is the strength and majesty the giant has honed through countless hardships? And if not, why should a giant emerge from among ants?

What I believe to be true, is considered false by thousands of others besides myself. Should I trust myself or those thousands of others? Even if the lives of those thousands of people are in my hands?

What I believe to be wrong, only a handful of others besides myself consider right. Should I then change my stance and trust those others, since their power or wisdom is superior to mine?

He didn't know, but felt he should know. He didn't understand, but felt he should. In the shifting of his thoughts, faint glimmers of light flickered in his eyes, the sky's brightness seemed to dim slightly at his will, and as the dull rumble of thunder sounded, his fingers gently pressed against the elevator railing. Then…

With a soft 'ding-dong,' the elevator arrived at the observation deck. The tourists, who had felt inexplicably uneasy, poured out of the elevator. The glimmer of light in Zhang Jie's eyes faded, and he gave a wry smile. As he stepped out of the elevator, the clouds in the sky dispersed, and the warm sunlight once again shone down, bathing the earth and the city above it in its gentle glow.

The sky cleared, and he walked into the observation deck—the elevator behind him slid down at the same speed as when he came in, and his gaze swept over it unhurriedly, until a target he had set his sights on when he stepped onto the observation deck appeared in his field of vision.

That was Xiao Honglu. Dressed in ordinary casual clothes, Xiao Honglu stood at the edge of the observation deck like a teenager deliberately trying to appear mature. Beside him was a three-legged round table that blended into the entire observation deck but looked slightly awkward in Zhang Jie's eyes, and on the round table was a computer that at least looked in line with the technological level of this era.

Zhang Jie was here because of a private communication Xiao Honglu had given him not long ago—the main god had perfectly fulfilled Zheng Zha's request, teleporting everyone to different random areas at least a thousand kilometers apart. Because of this, the seventh team, which was supposed to act as a group, had been separated. As Zhang Jie subconsciously opened his mental communication to gather his scattered teammates, he received a one-way communication from Xiao Honglu.

“You seem lost, Brother Zhang Jie.” Xiao Honglu’s gaze passed over Zhang Jie, seemingly fixed on something behind him. “This isn’t good for you, and it’s the same for everyone else.” His words were calm and ethereal, and he seemed to exude an unusual aura.

“Yes, you said that before too.” Zhang Jie pulled another cigarette out of thin air, this time a mid-range Yunyan brand. He took a slow, deliberate drag, then asked the little boy in front of him through the exhaled smoke, “So I came here, and what do you need me to do?”

"You are currently in a special stage of advancing from the third to the fourth stage of the gene lock. However, you are unaware of your future path, your beliefs, and your persistence. If you advance, you will surely die, but even if you forcibly delay your advancement, you will not last long."

“You’re right. I’m starting to regret it now. If I hadn’t exchanged so much mental energy for enhancement back then, I might be in a much better situation now, instead of being unable to suppress it even if I wanted to.” Zhang Jie nodded, took a deep drag, and smoked the cigarette down to just the butt in that one breath. He casually tossed it away, and the butt seemed to grow wings as it slowly flew to a trash can about ten meters away from him. None of the tourists on the observation deck noticed it.

Zhang Jie tilted his head slightly.

"And if I'm not mistaken, you're worried about yourself right now. Because you know you'll soon be in the same situation. Little brother Xiao Honglu, have you prepared a homogenized solution and want to test its success rate and fill in any gaps before using it on yourself?"

Xiao Honglu's face instantly fell. The unfathomable aura he had exuded vanished without a trace in an instant.

"Brother Zhang Jie, you're much smarter than I expected. Now I'm even starting to wonder if I'm one of the dumbest guys in the team." He tugged at his hair and said with a wry smile.

“You’ve been talking too much today,” Zhang Jie chuckled and replied. “In the past, you would probably have just told me what to do and how to do it. Instead, you gave me a reason and acted like you were trying to convince me—that’s Alice’s usual tactic, because she always thinks she’s stupid and is a little insecure. Convincing us is also a way of giving herself confidence. But you… you shouldn’t need this kind of thing.”

"You've failed so many times that after reaching the third stage, you subconsciously started imitating the successful people you know. And the one you imitate most is Alice—you can actually tell if you observe carefully. But I don't think today is the time to discuss this topic. So, what are your plans? To continue participating in this farcical competition that Zheng Zha has created?"

“There’s no competition left, Brother Zhang Jie.” Xiao Honglu shook his head and sighed. “Just as you said, it was all just a farce from the beginning. Captain Zheng Zha probably just came up with this competition rule on a whim—and he’ll soon find out he won’t even let it work for a full seven days.”

He walked to the edge of the observation deck, lowered his gaze, and asked softly while looking down at the city below.

"Brother Zhang Jie, I noticed you kept looking down when you came up—what did you see?"

“A bustling yet fragile city,” Zhang Jie replied, walking up to Xiao Honglu and looking down beside him. “A refined, noisy, chaotic, stagnant, and fragile city—the vast majority of people here live mediocre lives and die mediocre deaths. A small number of people can spark subtle flashes of thought, but they are still too insignificant to be noticed.”

“A very unique perspective, but what I see is different from yours.” Xiao Honglu tapped his forehead, where the healed ganglia concealed his third eye, which had manifested due to the enhancement of his Three-Eyed Clan bloodline, beneath the skin. “You know, Brother Zhang Jie, my eyes can perceive death. And when I look down, everything I see is the blackness of death.”

"This city is actually a dead city. Although the people down there may look alive, they will all die soon. And I think you know the reason, Brother Zhang Jie."

"...The plot of the third movie, is it a global infection?" Zhang Jie raised an eyebrow slightly.

“That’s right,” Xiao Honglu replied. “Although in the game, the biohazard caused by the Umbrella Corporation only spreads within Raccoon City, and Umbrella will suffer a devastating blow that will eventually lead to its collapse, this world is the world of movies. The closure of Raccoon City cannot stop those virus-carrying animals from spreading this deadly T to every corner of the earth. And when the timeline moves forward, the day Raccoon City explodes will also be the day this world faces destruction.”

“Zheng Zha will soon realize this and react immediately.” Zhang Jie nodded. “He won’t stand idly by and watch the world be destroyed by the T-virus, so he will seek help from others. He will quickly eliminate this situation of fighting alone, because if there is an opportunity to save everyone, he will never let the current manpower be scattered, but will concentrate everyone’s strength to solve the problem as quickly as possible.”

“Yes,” Xiao Honglu replied, “So this is just a farce. In a day or two at most, or even an hour or two, this so-called competition will be canceled by the organizers. And my suggestion… is just a small leveraging of this inevitable trend.” He looked at Zhang Jie and said seriously, “I’m planning to conduct a sociological experiment that might be very helpful to us. Do you want to come along, Brother Zhang Jie?”

Section 9. On the Erroneous Application of Sociology

“A sociological experiment…” Zhang Jie reached out, this time pulling a Cuban cigar from thin air. He casually lit it, then took a deep drag, the exhaled smoke transforming into the shape of a city before his eyes. “Why did I have this idea?”

"Just accumulating some resources." Xiao Honglu smiled and snapped his fingers. The thought of leaving welled up in the hearts of all the other tourists on the observation deck. Perhaps they were rushing home to be with their families, perhaps they remembered some important documents or meetings, or perhaps they were simply feeling unwell—within seconds, the entire observation deck was emptied. They quickly left via the sightseeing elevators or the spiral staircase over a hundred meters high, clearing a spacious area for conversation.

“Look, Brother Zhang Jie, the human heart is so fragile. With just a slight touch, they can easily lose themselves,” Xiao Honglu said softly. The twelve-year-old boy sighed softly, his words carrying a hint of premature wisdom. “Whether it’s you or me, destroying their society, shattering their order, and turning everything they possess into nothingness is an easy thing to do in a single thought. And what is it that restrains us, preventing us from doing so?”

"Conscience? Self-interest?" Zhang Jie replied, not treating the little boy as a genuine child. He also didn't believe Xiao Honglu's words were meant to demonstrate his power or arrogance—he quickly added, "And the rules set by the team?"

“It’s compassion.” Xiao Honglu shook his head. “The reason we haven’t destroyed this world, conducted scientific experiments recklessly in this world that is almost powerless against us, or simply vented our violent emotions from the cycle of reincarnation, is because we have compassion for this world.”

“I think the captain’s knife might also be an important factor,” Zhang Jie replied. He roughly guessed what Xiao Honglu was trying to say, but that didn’t stop him from casually steer the conversation in any other direction. “If they act recklessly, Zheng Zha, that good-natured guy, won’t turn a blind eye. You said yourself that he would stop this farcical competition because of the impending disaster in this world.”