The Raccoon City Police Department, cloaked under the heavy shroud of night, was anything but quiet. Since the evacuation, the once-empty parking lot was now "overflowing" with life. After Marvin led the secondary evacuation, the rolling shutters here had been left unattended and unlowered, standing wide open to the night.
Furthermore, the prisoners held in the cells and those isolated as suspected Infected had been deliberately abandoned within this peril-ridden building by the officers during the chaotic retreat.
Every one of these prisoners could be described as a ticking time bomb. Most were thugs who had taken advantage of the riots breaking out in Raccoon City to engage in wanton looting, robbery, rape, and even murder. Bringing them along offered no benefit and would only have hindered the speed of the retreat; thus, once the evacuation order was issued, not a single officer was willing to expend the energy to take them away.
However, the Raccoon City Police Department officers who stayed until the end still harbored a shred of kindness. Not long after their departure, the station's main power grid would completely shut down, at which point the cell locks would fail, allowing the prisoners to free themselves. Simultaneously, they had pointedly locked the outer door of the cell block and left a key on a desk inside the room.
Doing so prevented zombies from breaking into the cells and turning the trapped occupants into defenseless prey, while also temporarily restraining them to prevent them from rushing out and disrupting the evacuation plans outside the city—a desperate compromise born of a turbulent situation.
As for Raymond, the Chief, who harbored a deep-seated hatred for criminals, he didn't care whether these people lived or died. Yet, before leaving, Marvin had made a special trip to the cells, promising those inside that once the citizens outside the city were safely relocated, he would definitely find a way to return for them.
Regarding the suspected Infected, it was simply a matter of the situation deteriorating far faster than anticipated. There hadn't been enough time to determine one by one whether they were infected with the virus, so they could only be temporarily isolated in unused cells. These two circumstances were originally meant as temporary measures, but when they collided, it spelled disaster.
Lear lay lazily across a chair in the Police Station Lobby, listening to the constant snarling of zombies echoing from both sides. He stared up at the dim ceiling and muttered to himself.
"Those scumbags have probably turned into sashimi by now... but they got what they deserved. I just wonder if Ada found that reporter."
As he spoke, he raised his hand to glance at his wristwatch. The glowing dial clearly displayed the time: September 29th, 5:15 PM.
"Leon and Claire should be arriving here around dusk." Lear pillowed his head on his arms, looking up at the mottled ceiling of the station. His brow furrowed imperceptibly as he whispered, "I hope nothing goes wrong."
Clack—clack—clack—
The crisp sound of high heels clicking against the floor drifted slowly from the end of the lobby corridor in a steady, unhurried rhythm. Lear didn't even lift his head to know that Ada was back.
"Officer Lear, you certainly look relaxed." Ada's voice rang out through the hall, tinged with a hint of lazy mockery.
Lear slowly turned his head toward the approaching Ada Wong and spoke flatly: "Ms. Ada, did you find the person you were looking for?" Ada crossed her arms, leaning sideways against a pillar near Lear. Her eyes swept carelessly over the surroundings, her tone laced with a hint of probing: "I didn't find them. However, there are swarms of zombies wandering the floors below. Why, is Officer Lear completely unaware of this?"
Hearing the hidden test in her words, Lear gave a nonchalant chuckle.
"Ms. Ada, first of all, I never agreed to you wandering around in the first place; the Police Station is far from safe. Second, the other officers and I evacuated the station the day before yesterday, so how could I possibly know what's happening here? And finally..."
His gaze sized up the woman before him. "I don't believe someone brave enough to break into Raccoon City alone at a time like this would be trapped by a mere handful of zombies."
As the words fell, the smile on Lear's face vanished instantly. He adopted a serious expression and asked, "So, Ms. Ada, is that answer satisfactory?"
Choked by Lear's sharp retort, Ada was momentarily speechless. She looked at him in silence for a moment before suddenly breaking into a smile. "Officer Lear certainly has a sharp tongue. I'm just a weak woman; I don't have any real skills, it's all just luck. But, Officer Lear, you should be careful. I just saw—"
Before she finished, Ada suddenly leaned in close, her warm breath brushing against Lear's ear. "Some things that shouldn't be here. For example... oversized green lizards and the like. Be careful, Officer Lear."
Without waiting for Lear to react, Ada quickly pulled away, taking two steps back to put distance between them.
"Rest up, Officer Lear. I'm going to check elsewhere."
With that, the crisp click of high heels sounded again, gradually receding until it finally vanished into the darkness of the corridor.
Lear watched her departing figure and exhaled a long breath. He knew perfectly well that Ada's words were a clear hint that she had already discovered Friday's existence; she had reclaimed the initiative with just a few sentences.
"A woman that smart... Leon, only you could handle someone like her."
Lear shook his head and pushed the thought aside. He could feel that his injuries were much better than before—at least enough to allow him to walk with the support of the wall. He reached out to brace himself against the cold stone and laboriously pushed himself up from the chair.
Leaning against the wall, he shuffled step by step toward the weapon crate in the corner of the Main Hall. The box that had once been filled with firearms and ammunition was now nearly empty, leaving only scattered bullets and a few dust-covered standard-issue handguns.
The P226 handgun Kendo had given Lear earlier had long since been lost in the series of battles, and he hadn't particularly cared at the time.
For the old Lear, dealing with those staggering zombies and common B.O.W.s was far more efficient with his bare fists than with a gun.
But that wasn't an option now. Although he could manage to move on his own, his current physical state made it impossible to support any more hand-to-hand combat with those things.
Lear crouched by the weapon crate, fished out two pistols, and then grabbed the loose rounds, pressing them into the magazines one by one.
"Lear... that woman... should I... kill her?"
A raspy voice suddenly rang out in Lear's mind. Friday jumped down from the ceiling and stood beside him.
After finishing its inspection of the Hunter, it had been hiding in the shadows of the second floor, overhearing the entire conversation between Ada and Lear.
While it didn't understand what the woman was saying, it could see that Lear didn't seem very happy after talking to her.
Friday's logic was very simple: Lear didn't kill it and gave it a name, so Lear was good. Ada made Lear unhappy, so Ada was bad. Therefore, she had to be eliminated.
Hearing Friday's words, Lear was stunned for a moment before giving the creature an annoyed pat.
"Don't be so bloodthirsty. You might not even be able to beat her."
At Lear's remark, Friday shook its large head and remained silent, looking almost sulky.
(Translated by yourtl.app)