[R.P.D. : Basement Level – NIGHT]
The metallic door groaned open as Arlo descended into the basement of the Raccoon City Police Department, boots echoing down the grimy stairwell. Every step further into the station's underbelly felt like slipping deeper into a tomb. The air was heavy with mildew and diesel fumes, and somewhere ahead, a slow mechanical hum echoed — maybe the generators, or maybe something worse.
"Let's hope this isn't a kennel," Arlo muttered.
Link walked at his side, ears alert, tail low. They followed the dark corridor into the East Central Passage, and that's when Arlo froze. Three zombie dogs stood ahead, sleek Dobermans now reduced to snarling bags of sinew and bone. Patches of skin hung from their frames like burnt fabric. Their eyes burned with rage — or whatever corrupted mockery of instinct the virus had left in them.
Arlo activated his [Observe] saw the zombie dogs Status Window.
---
Zombie Dogs
Race: Undead (T-Virus)
Level: 12
HP: 100/100
MP: 0/0
Stats:
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 15
Intelligence: 5
Charisma: -10
Luck: 0
Endurance: 10
Wisdom: -5
Skills: T-Virus Mutation LV: 5/10, Cannibal LV: 5/10, Infection LV: 5/10, Pouncing LV: 5/10, Sharp teeth LV: 5/10
Status: Infected Dogs by the T-Virus
Remark: Infected canines with the bio-engineered viruses through an unintended method, such as infected food or a carrier of the virus. They retain much of their agility, with a noticeable increase in durability and aggression.
Weakness: Exposed Brain
Threat Level: Mid - High
---
The dogs didn't bark. They just moved — coordinated, circling, cutting off exits.
"Three on two. We've had worse," Arlo whispered.
The lead dog lunged with startling speed. Arlo drew his threaded cane mid-spin, unfolding it to blade mode with a flick of his wrist. He dropped low and swiped in a wide arc — clean decapitation.
[Slash - 112 Critical Damage]
[EXP GAINED: +200]
The dog's momentum carried its headless body forward before it crumpled at his boots, twitching violently.The second and third went for Link.
"Link, Double Team!" Arlo commanded.
Link shimmered, splitting into three perfect copies. The zombie dogs growled in confusion, snapping at illusions. That was the opening Arlo needed."Rock Throw, now!"
The orbs around Link's neck ignited, swirling with multicolored energy. A burst of stones shot forth like shrapnel, shredding one of the dogs mid-air — limbs scattering across the hallway with a wet splatter. The last one growled and turned—
Bang!
[Headshot- 50 Critical Damage]
Bang!
[Headshot- 62 Critical Damage]
Two shots from the Pit Viper, both slamming directly into the skull. The last dog collapsed instantly, jerking once before going still.
Arlo exhaled, lowering the weapon. "That's enough Scooby-Doo episodes for today."
They pressed forward, stepping over the corpses. The hallway opened into the Parking Garage, a sprawling underground lot filled with abandoned cruisers and busted sedans. Water dripped from overhead pipes. Somewhere in the far corner, rats scurried under a wrecked ambulance.
Arlo scanned the ceiling. "No cameras. Great. Total blind spot." He spotted the exit ramp — massive, closed, and sealed with an electronic lock. Just like in the game. "No key card... figures," he sighed. He knelt by the panel beside the ramp and activated his [Analysis] skill.
Digital overlays formed in his vision — a blueprint of the device's circuits, encryption layers, and locking mechanisms.
"Security relay's intact... internal ID check... voltage shunt—yeah, this is corporate paranoia at its finest," he muttered. He bypassed the voltage gate first, then looped the system's fail-safe through a dummy register and used a weak pulse to fake a keycard scan. Ten seconds later—Access granted.
The garage ramp rumbled open with a mechanical screech, revealing the dim, foggy street beyond. Arlo holstered his pistol and gave a slow nod."Downtown Raccoon City... here we come." Link barked once, sharp and focused, as they stepped beyond the threshold — away from the station, and into whatever chaos the city had left waiting for them.
***
[Racoon City: Downtown – NIGHT]
Rain poured like a curse from the heavens, drumming against ruined storefronts and cracked pavement. Arlo pulled up the hood of his coat, glancing around the open street. Everything was still — too still.
"This is supposed to be the hotspot," Arlo muttered, voice low, pistol drawn and ready. "So where the hell are the zombies?"
Link trotted beside him, tail stiff, nose twitching at every shift in the air. Even he seemed on edge. Downtown Raccoon City wasn't just quiet — it was silent. The kind of silence that screamed trap to anyone paying attention.
Arlo's boots splashed through puddles, the rain masking their approach. They followed the winding street through toppled streetlamps and shattered windows until a faint neon sign flickered ahead.
Kendo's Gun Shop."Of course it's blocked..." Arlo muttered. The road to the shop's front was half-collapsed into a sinkhole, debris and twisted iron jutting out like broken ribs. He opened his mini-map HUD — yep, the only access point forward was through Kendo's. Typical.
Arlo stepped cautiously toward the back entrance of Kendo's Gun Shop, Link just a pace behind. Rain dripped off the edges of his coat, the gloom of downtown pressing on him like a wet blanket. The eerie silence outside had unsettled him—too quiet for a major hotspot in the game's universe.The second he reached for the back door handle, he felt it: cold metal pressed against the back of his head. His danger intuition had triggered too late this time.
"Don't move," a gruff voice said. Controlled. Not panicked. Dangerous.
Arlo froze. He didn't need to turn to know that a shotgun was pointed at him. Slowly raising his hands, he exhaled through his nose. "We're just passing through," he said calmly.Link growled low, fur bristling, but didn't move. Good dog.
"I said DON'T MOVE!" the man barked again, louder this time.Arlo turned slowly, eyes locking onto the man behind the shotgun. A tired face. Unshaven. Hollow eyes full of grief and desperation. "Robert Kendo,"
Arlo muttered under his breath. The man from the remake. The one with the tragic daughter.
"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Arlo said. "But if you shoot, I'm not the one who's gonna suffer."
Robert's hands didn't lower. His eyes darted, unsure. "Turn around. Go right back out the way you came."
Arlo's gaze flicked to the side—there. In the shadows of the store, barely visible, a little girl hunched near a collapsed shelf.
"Your daughter…" Arlo said carefully, "she doesn't look good."
Robert's eyes widened. "Don't tell me how to deal with my daughter!"
"I'm not. But she's infected, right?" Arlo said, voice even. "I can help her. I have something that might work."
As if on cue, the girl whispered, "Daddy…" and stumbled forward. Robert's breath hitched. He knelt, pulling her into a hug. "Daddy's here, Emmie. I'm here."
Arlo activated his [Observe] and then [Analysis].
---
Emma Kendo - Level 3
Description: The daughter of Robert Kendo, a local gun shop owner, she was one of a hundred thousand victims
Status: Zombification (70%)
Threat Level: None - Low
---
The results confirmed it: the infection hadn't spread to her brain yet. Still salvageable. He reached into his inventory, pulled a small vial—his Cure All potion—and held it up."This might save her," he said.
Robert looked at the vial, at Arlo, then back to his daughter. The shotgun lowered slowly. "You're sure?"
Arlo nodded once. "You've got no other options."
Robert clenched his jaw, then gave the faintest nod. Arlo turned to Link.
"Guard the front, Link." Link padded to the door without hesitation. Arlo followed Robert and Emma into the back, the vial clutched tightly in his hand.
...
Inside the back of the gun shop, the air was colder. Still. Death hung in it like stale smoke. Arlo's eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw the body — a woman, draped in a bloodied sheet, slumped in a corner. Arlo didn't ask. He didn't have to. That was Kendo's wife. Another victim in a city full of tragedies.
Robert Kendo gave Arlo a hard look, his shotgun lowered slightly. "Alright, you said you can help. How exactly are you gonna cure my daughter? Seriously?"
Arlo didn't flinch. "Like I said — the cure is this." He pulled a small, glowing vial from his inventory pouch. "She just needs to drink it."
Kendo's eyes narrowed. "Just like that? She gulps this stuff and suddenly she's not infected anymore?" His voice was skeptical, bitter. Maybe he'd seen too much false hope already.
"I'm not here to sell you snake oil," Arlo said plainly, holding the vial out to him. "You either try it or you wait and watch her turn. I'm not sugarcoating this. You don't have long."
Robert stared at the vial for a long moment. Then he turned and walked back to where Emma sat, her tiny frame wrapped in a blanket. Her skin was pale. Her lips dry. The signs were all there — infection creeping closer with every shallow breath. Kneeling beside her, Kendo's voice cracked slightly. "Emmie, sweetheart… I need you to drink this, okay? It's gonna help. I promise."
Emma gave a tiny nod, her eyes glassy. With trembling hands, Robert lifted the vial to her mouth. She drank.The effect was immediate.Emma jerked forward, coughing violently. Her whole body spasmed. Mucus — thick, black-veined, and tinged with white — spilled from her mouth and onto the floor.
Arlo stepped forward, watching closely, then activated [Analysis].
---
Emma Kendo - Level 3
Status: Infection Level – 0%.
Condition: Stabilizing
---
Arlo let out a breath."She's clean," he said to Robert, who looked stunned. "It's gone. All of it. She'll be fine now."
Kendo sank back against the wall, his shotgun falling from his grip. His hands trembled as he looked at his daughter, now curled up on the couch, sleeping peacefully. He covered his face with one hand, not crying — just breathing. Letting go of days of pressure.
"Thank you," he muttered, voice hoarse. "I don't know what to say."
"Don't," Arlo replied. "Just don't let her get caught up in this again. I don't like seeing kids suffer because some soulless corporation wanted to play God."
That caught Kendo's attention. "Corporation?"
"Umbrella," Arlo said. "They made the virus. Covered it up. Lost control. This city's their mess."
Kendo clenched his fists. "Those bastards… I should've known. Bastards like that don't care who they kill."
After a few moments of silence, Arlo stood up. "We need to leave Raccoon City. It's not safe to stay here."
Kendo looked unsure. "I don't know… it's dangerous out there. Maybe the government will send someone. Maybe…"
"No one's coming," Arlo cut in. "This city is lost. And if Umbrella hasn't told the government the truth yet, someone will. When they do? They'll wipe Raccoon off the map to keep this thing contained."
Kendo's expression twisted. "You think they'll… bomb it?"
"I'd bet on it," Arlo said. "Your best shot — Emma's best shot — is to get to the subway. Survivors are gathering there. That's what the last broadcast said."
Kendo was quiet, then nodded. "A friend of mine… said the same thing. Said people were trying to regroup."
"Then let's go," Arlo said. "We move now."
Kendo gently picked Emma up, holding her like she was made of glass. Arlo walked to the front of the store, whistled low. Link came trotting back, alert and ready.
"Alright," Arlo muttered, looking toward the rainy street beyond the shattered windows. "Next stop — the subway station."
***
[Redstone Street Station: Subway Platform]
By the time Arlo and Link reached Redstone Street Station, the rain had become nothing more than a faint drizzle. The streets were silent, too silent for Arlo's comfort. No groaning. No stumbling corpses. Just the echo of wet boots against cracked pavement and the soft panting of Link at his side.
"This place is way too clean," Arlo muttered. "Either someone cleared it out... or something's not right." He glanced behind him. Kendo followed closely, arms wrapped protectively around Emma. The man's boots crunched over broken glass, but his eyes never left his daughter. Arlo took point, his eyes scanning the street with mechanical precision. The Central Street Entrance loomed ahead — corroded metal doors half open, a flickering light above buzzing like a dying fly.
As they entered the station's service corridor, the noise of the outside world dulled. Damp walls stretched around them, and puddles of stale water rippled with each step. Pipes rattled overhead. Every so often, Arlo's danger intuition flickered like static — not quite a threat, but enough to keep him cautious.The corridor ended at the platform, where a subway car idled with faint engine hum. Arlo stopped abruptly. His HUD pinged three active signatures ahead. Soldiers — well-armed and well-alert.
"Hold it right there!" barked one of them. Guns rose. "Hands up!"
Arlo instinctively shifted his body between the barrels and Link, his left hand already hovering over his holster. But before anything could escalate, Kendo shouted out: "Jill! It's me, Kendo!"
From the side of the train, a woman stepped forward. Short brown hair. blue tube top, black shorts with a white edge, a white sweater tied around her waist, and brown boots. Her eyes squinted, then widened with recognition. "Lower your weapons. They're not infected."
The mercs stood down. Arlo let his breath out quietly, and Kendo walked over to Jill.
"I thought you'd never come," Kendo said, his voice tired but relieved.
"Guess you took the scenic route," she replied dryly.
Then Kendo gestured to Arlo."He's the reason we're still breathing." Arlo stepped forward, extending a hand. "Arlo Leeroy."
She shook it with a firm nod. "Jill Valentine. Thanks for getting them here."
Before they could exchange more than names, a gruff voice from the train cut in. "Jill, the subway's ready," called Mikhail, seated with a grim expression and a blood-stained uniform.
Kendo nodded and climbed aboard, still cradling Emma. Arlo and Link followed, but his ears perked at a nearby conversation between Mikhail and Carlos — something about tracking down a Dr. Nathaniel Bard and his potential vaccine research.
Arlo filed the name away. "Bard. Research. Vaccine. Could be a trigger event," he muttered under his breath.
Then — slow clapping.
Arlo turned and instantly pegged the source: smug expression, square jaw, dead eyes. Russian accent to top it off.
"You see?" the man said to Jill, his voice dipped in sarcasm. "You're learning. The only life that matters... is your own."
Arlo didn't flinch. He knew the type. Mercenary-for-hire. Snake in a uniform. If memory served — and it always did — this was Nikolai Zinoviev. Arlo didn't respond. Not worth the breath. But in his mind, red flags were waving.Nikolai: classic wildcard. Self-serving. Wouldn't hesitate to sell his squad if it meant survival and a bigger payday.
Arlo kept his body language relaxed but mentally tagged him as a threat.
Nikolai's gaze slid toward Arlo, then to Link, who stood rigid and silent. "What is that thing?" he asked, intrigued.
Link gave a low growl for emphasis. Nikolai raised a brow but smirked and turned away.
Arlo gave a short whistle. "Let's go, Link." They boarded the subway. The interior was dim and humid, but it beat being outside. He found a spot beside Kendo, who was softly humming something to Emma as she slept.
The train lurched forward. Movement. Progress. For now, they were all alive. But Arlo knew better than to get comfortable. In Raccoon City, the next stop could always be your last.