Lear and Jill led David and the others, quickly crossing through two corridors to return to the Police Station Lobby.
Marvin and the other three officers had been standing guard at the shutter. The moment the voices of Lear's group crackled over the walkie-talkie, he immediately hit the switch, slowly raising the shutter to welcome everyone back inside. Once everyone was safely in the Main Hall, he quickly slammed the shutter down again, isolating the West Corridor once more.
"David, how are you guys holding up?"
Marvin stepped forward quickly, his tone urgent.
David's face was deathly pale, his voice raspy. "We're... okay. But Hunter, Lilith, and the others... they were all killed by those things."
"What?" Marvin stiffened, asking in shock, "What exactly did you encounter?"
David only shook his head gloomily. "I don't know. We finished inspecting the scene and confirmed there were claw marks on the ground. We originally intended to evacuate the remaining citizens to the Main Hall. But while we were patrolling the corridor, those things suddenly burst in through the windows. The boarded-up windows were like paper to them; they were shredded instantly. In the blink of an eye, three or four of our brothers were down."
At this point, David's tone turned mournful. "The citizens scattered in a panic. Some people tried to go after them to bring them back, and just like that... by the time we came to our senses, there were hardly any of us left. We retreated with the remaining citizens to the Operations Room. The result... well, you see it. We're all that's left."
"Let me explain."
Lear stepped forward and took over the conversation, his tone calm yet heavy.
"Those things are extremely fast, equipped with razor-sharp claws and a very long, highly aggressive tongue. I've given them a name—Lickers. David and his team were caught completely off guard. These monsters must have been lurking in the shadows outside the walls, waiting for David's group to pass before suddenly smashing through the windows to attack."
"Their skin has peeled away, leaving their muscles and brains exposed. Attacking the brain is an effective way to kill them; Jill and I have already tested it," Lear continued.
"Oh right, these monsters, the Lickers—they seem to be blind. That's how we were able to retreat from the corridor," David added suddenly, as if just remembering.
"Agreed. Lear discovered that earlier. These things can't see, but their hearing and sense of smell are incredibly acute." Jill nodded, turning to Marvin with a hint of admiration for Lear's powers of observation in her voice. "If we can stay quiet and strike first before a Licker detects us, there's a high probability of a one-hit kill."
"Marvin, have the other areas been cleared? The number of Lickers is unknown. We have to ensure the Main Hall is secure, otherwise we won't have a single place left for a temporary rest," Lear said with a grim expression.
"Rest easy, all the doors connected to the Main Hall have been checked and reinforced. As long as we don't open them ourselves, those things can't burst in," Marvin replied, his tone carrying a rare hint of relief.
Though Lear felt a faint sense that those words were a jinx, after everything they had been through, it was undoubtedly the most reassuring news of the night.
After helping Marvin settle the other survivors, Lear leaned back in a chair in the Main Hall to rest his weary body. After a moment, Sherry cautiously moved to his side. Seeing this, Lear smiled gently and gave the young girl a light beckoning wave.
Sherry obediently sat down beside him.
"How are you doing, Sherry? It's been a long day, you must be exhausted," Lear asked softly, gently stroking the top of her head.
Sherry shook her head slightly and whispered, "I'm not tired."
But seeing her fighting to keep her eyes open despite being clearly drained, Lear's heart softened. He took off his jacket, draped it gently over her shoulders, and kept her company with quiet, idle conversation.
Before long, the sound of Sherry's steady, even breathing drifted from beside him. Lear carefully laid her down on the sofa, tucked the jacket around her, then stood up and walked over to Jill, who was checking her weapons nearby.
"Your sister? She's quite cute," Jill said, pausing her movements and turning her head with a smile.
"No, I brought her out of the Orphanage. There were no adults looking after her at the time, so I took her with me. Sherry is a very strong girl; she was right by my side when the Tyrant attacked us earlier. Later we got separated—I ran toward the Apartment area to lure the Tyrant away, and she managed to dodge the zombies on the streets all by herself to escape back to the Police Station. She even wanted to bring Marvin and the others out to save me," Lear said softly.
"She certainly did. She insisted on following us to find you; it's clear the girl is very attached to you," Marvin added with a smile, having just finished reassuring the citizens and walking over to join the conversation.
With the weapon maintenance finished, Lear leaned his assembled shotgun against a weapon crate and rested against it himself. He looked up, his gaze falling upon the statue standing in the center of the Main Hall, his eyes darkening.
Tonight at the Raccoon City Police Department had been undeniably harrowing. According to the original timeline, there shouldn't have been such a dense concentration of high-level threats on the 25th. Yet the reality was that not only had mutated monsters like Lickers staged an ambush, but even a top-tier enhanced Bio-organic weapon like the Tyrant had made an early appearance.
This gave Lear a strong sense of dissonance; the direction of events seemed to have long since spiralled beyond his expectations.
From the moment he first crossed over, he had only wanted to ride the coattails of Leon and Claire's protagonist auras to slip away from Raccoon City amid the chaos. Later, his mindset shifted to protecting Sherry, and even saving as many innocents as possible. And now, he had faced a Tyrant and killed a Licker with his own hands.
Lear suddenly realized he was no longer a bystander watching from the sidelines, but had truly stepped into this peril-filled world, becoming an indispensable piece on the chessboard of fate.
As his thoughts drifted, the terrifying silhouette of the Tyrant surfaced in his mind again, and Lear suddenly remembered something. He lifted his shirt and looked at his right ribs. Not long ago, when Jill had checked him, the area had been a mass of bruises and swelling—the mark left by the sweep of the Tyrant's fist.
But now, only a faint, grayish-blue mark remained on the skin, almost blending in with his skin tone, and the pain had vanished long ago.
What is this... some kind of transmigrator's cheat? Lear murmured under his breath, his fingertips grazing the mark. A sudden hypothesis formed in his mind: his body seemed to possess an extraordinary self-healing ability.
Speaking of "cheats," another strange sensation welled up. He'd had the nagging feeling that his strength had increased for no reason, like when he had crushed a zombie's skull with a single stomp.
Intending to test this, Lear straightened up from the weapon crate and firmly gripped the edge of the heavy wooden table in front of him, which was laden with firearms and ammunition.
The next second, his arms suddenly surged with power. With his muscles tensed, that table—which would have required at least three men to move—was actually hoisted half a meter off the ground by his raw strength!
Lear slowly set the table back down. Feeling the power surging through his body, the nerves that had been taut all night finally relaxed a fraction. He looked down at his hands, a slight curve forming at the corners of his mouth.
Whether or not this was a gift brought about by his arrival in this world, at the very least, this strength would allow him to survive longer and go further in this hellish place.
(Translated by yourtl.app)