"Why?" my partner asked, still not understanding.
"Why? It's elementary. Let the board of directors start worrying and making mistakes. Considering how everything happened, they'll quickly realize someone is on their tail and breathing down their necks. You've covered your channels well. They have good hackers, but clearly none at your level—there were only three like that, and all of them are out of the game for one reason or another. So one of the obvious conclusions will be an internal split. And even if they don't go that far, they'll definitely make a couple of mistakes. That could greatly accelerate those events we've occasionally been noting indirect information about."
That was how I carefully disguised my knowledge of the canon—by actually finding a couple of confirmations online and keeping Yamata in the dark about the rest.
"You'd better tell me what's going on with your target," I added, trying to shift the topic.
"I handed him over about half an hour ago to the army units that arrived. They'll take care of Dr. Hamilton and David King—both of whom never left the States. Our responsibility is to return those citizens who fled abroad back to the bosom of America. Apparently they ran because they were afraid of Umbrella. That's roughly what the new addition to the assignment says—sent as part of an information package from some big shot in the White House. Because of the uproar around the city that was wiped off the map, the U.S. government can't send its own troops anywhere. Supposedly relations with neighboring countries have become tense, and the corporation is stirring something up. So the politicians decided not to weaken themselves, even for such a noble cause."
Yamata quoted someone a couple of times with clear irony.
"I see. In other words, nobody wants to take responsibility or waste their own people, and here we are—so wonderful and convenient—who'll get all the blame if the mission fails or if we're exposed in front of other countries. Is that about right?"
"If we drop all the rhetoric, then yes. That's exactly it." The girl sighed.
Yeah. They'd found their scapegoats, and now they were making full use of us.
"It's bad that all the other targets are so far away. On the one hand, since we already planned for something like this, slipping across the border will be easy—even the transport we 'borrowed' from the corporation is available. On the other hand, the corporation has far more resources, and we risk not getting there in time. What do we know about the targets?"
"The journalist is holed up in England and broadcasting nonstop from there with her precious freedom of speech about all the incidents she and her unwilling companions got themselves involved in. I think she'll be the first target. I can take her—it's mostly a matter of speed. Yoko Suzuki tried to return to her family, but that didn't work out, and they sent her away again. So now she's staying with her friend and the last target—Cindy Lennox, a former waitress… the one you mistook for a croupier. Those two are closer, in Canada, somewhere near the border. But there are two of them. So I can't immediately say which target should take priority." The girl reported
"Got it. Yes, you should take the journalist yourself. You'll be able to get to her without attracting much attention. And we do have the helicopter. Meanwhile, I'll head to Canada. For two targets, Umbrella might deploy something bigger—up to and including the appearance of a B.O.W. And while you're faster than the Tyrants now, you still lag behind them in other aspects, even if not as badly as before. You understand it yourself: it'll be much easier for you to operate in England. I, on the other hand, will work as the 'elephant in the china shop.' Extra attention will play to our advantage in our conflict with the corporation—so long as I don't expose myself… if possible."
"Alright then, hero of the pistol and stiletto. Talk to you later." She cut the connection.
Right. I'd already finished my part of the job—I waited for the soldiers to arrive and had already slipped away from the crime scene—so I could head in the necessary direction right away. Just then the data arrived on the portable computer sitting on the passenger seat.
Excellent. That's exactly what I'll do.
There's no need to swing by home anyway. Yamata will get there earlier and will have already taken off by then. Besides, the distance from here to the border is about the same as to the house.
***
Much later. Montreal.
Well, it's already encouraging that the targets settled in a city like Montreal, where there are not only ordinary streets but also underground ones. Here, you could avoid going outside altogether, moving through the countless underground shopping centers and passages connecting hotels, office buildings, and the subway.
I'm already shielded from satellites, and I've managed to obtain a map of the areas covered by surveillance cameras after digging around a bit with the skills I inherited from the same Four Eyes.
Actually, the matter of skills and abilities turned out to be rather interesting. On the one hand, if I completely absorb a victim, I can essentially claim all of their skills—not merely view their memories and gain knowledge from them. What's the difference? A skill isn't just knowledge; it carries real experience of application. In fact, a whole collection of different skills, each bearing a personal imprint, essentially forms a person's personality. Probably not entirely, but for the most part, that's how it works.
Knowledge, on the other hand, is like cramming an encyclopedia into my head. I might know everything written there, but I won't necessarily know how to apply it, or I can only apply examples that are identical to those shown in the encyclopedia or with minimal variation.
It would seem simple: just take the skills by completely consuming the victims. But I remember perfectly well what that leads to. The result of one such full absorption (or was it two?) is currently walking through the underground passages of Montreal, lost in thought.
What do I mean?
Well, I am the result of Vector/Jacob being absorbed by the transmigrator Alex —and I am neither of them. In other words, with further absorptions, even the symbiosis of the three personalities—Cain—risks disappearing. And someone else would take my place.
Someone born from the accumulation of all the absorbed identities.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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