Lear stood by the apartment window, his gaze falling upon a building standing silently in the gathering dusk nearby, and his entire body suddenly froze.
Raccoon City Public Orphanage.
It wasn't until this moment that he truly realized the place where he had taken temporary shelter was actually this close to the Orphanage where Sherry was located. Separated only by a narrow alley and a low half-wall, the lawn in the courtyard, the rust-stained slides, and even a few windows glowing with faint light were so clear they seemed to be right before his eyes.
Shock washed over him like a bucket of cold water, and fragments of the plot regarding Sherry instantly exploded in his mind.
He remembered how lonely Sherry was. As the daughter of Umbrella researchers William Birkin and Annette, she had grown up in the cold environment of the laboratory amidst her parents' constant arguments, never having any proper playmates.
After the disaster broke out, William injected himself with the G-Virus and mutated, while her mother Annette perished in the chaos. She became the only "vessel" carrying the G-Virus antibody, pursued by both Umbrella's hunters and her mutated father.
That small figure scuttling through the ruins of Raccoon City, trembling behind trash cans, silently weeping while clutching a doll, not even daring to cry for help too loudly—the sight of her, even through a screen, was heart-wrenching.
He also remembered how resilient Sherry was. Clearly just a child in need of protection, she had learned to hide keys, memorize routes, and even surreptitiously observe enemy movements in desperate situations. In the ventilation ducts of the Police Station, she endured her terror to help Claire find an exit; even when parasitized by a G-Young, she forced herself to remain conscious and refused to break down. When she finally escaped Raccoon City with Claire, she had gripped the other's hand and said, "I'll protect you from now on," the stubbornness in her eyes brighter than the sunlight.
"It's actually... here..." Lear murmured under his breath, his fingertips unconsciously picking at the edge of the window frame. His chest felt as if it had been struck by something, growing heavy and stifling. He thought of Sherry's eyes in the game—always filled with timidity yet hiding a core of stubbornness—and a thought suddenly surfaced: this time, perhaps things could be different.
His original plan had been crystal clear: as an R.P.D. officer, staying at the Police Station and waiting for Leon was the most logical choice and the one least likely to arouse suspicion. By relying on the Police Station's layout and equipment, combined with his relationship with the good-natured Lieutenant Marvin, he could secure a foothold during the early stages of the outbreak. Once Leon arrived, he could join him as a matter of course and follow the main plot to find a way out. It was stable, safe, and carried the lowest risk.
But at this moment, the Orphanage in his line of sight was like a stone dropped heavily into a lake, instantly disrupting all his presets.
Leon's journey was long and his arrival time uncertain, and the interior of the Police Station was already churning with undercurrents.
Thinking of Irons' actions—a man for whom innocent citizens were expendable and the Mayor's daughter could be turned into a taxidermy specimen just to cover up Umbrella's secrets—Lear could not guarantee that this bastard wouldn't do something to deviate from the plot in the meantime.
Even if there was no deviation, Irons, as the Chief, could crush him on mere suspicion alone, given that he was just a rookie Patrol Officer. Even if he waited for Leon, a smooth rendezvous wasn't guaranteed, and he would have no way to seize the initiative. But the Orphanage was different.
With Sherry here, Claire's path was already set in stone. He could even envision how Claire would break into the Orphanage, frantically searching for any trace of Sherry.
All he needed to do was appear at the right moment—steadying her when she tripped over clutter in the Orphanage, or "happening" to know where the spare key was when she found a door locked. Through a series of natural coincidences, he would make her feel that "this local officer is reliable."
There was no need to expose his origins. By offering help as a "Patrol Officer familiar with the layout," Claire's straightforward and warm-hearted nature meant she would likely accept him as a companion.
More importantly, he had seen too many examples of "following the main plot only to end up dead." In the survival games he'd played and the novels he'd read in his previous life, countless people thought they could rest easy just by clinging to the protagonist, only to die senseless deaths because they ignored a minor character's fate or missed a critical timing window. The plot was a reference, but it couldn't be trusted blindly—this was the ironclad rule he had synthesized.
In a single thought, his original plan was completely overhauled. It wasn't about giving up on waiting for Leon, but rather a two-pronged approach. He couldn't afford to put all his eggs in one basket anymore; he had to cover both sides.
As for Sherry... Lear's gaze fell once more toward the Orphanage. In the night, that building looked like a silent vessel, holding a child's innocent expectations for the future, as well as the impending storm. He was no saint, and his primary mission after transmigrating here was to survive, but looking at that lit window, a corner of his heart suddenly softened.
He didn't want to let that child hide alone in the darkness shivering anymore; he didn't want to see her clutching her doll while fleeing through ruins. Perhaps out of long-standing sympathy for that small figure in the game, or perhaps realizing he finally had the power to change something, a clear thought took shape in his mind: this time, try to protect her. Even if it was just handing her an extra bottle of water or pointing toward a safer path, it was better than letting her relive the terror of his previous life's memories.
Lear turned and walked to the desk. He took out a pen and paper, his nib steady as he began to re-map every subsequent step.
No more holding out at the Police Station just to wait for Leon. Instead, he would center his strategy on the Orphanage—interfacing with the Claire and Sherry line while simultaneously keeping the possibility of meeting Leon open. Parallel preparations, total readiness.
He wrote on the paper:
1. Prioritize firearms training to ensure basic self-defense—the "headshot every time" feeling from the games in his past life was useless in reality; he had to build actual muscle memory.
2. Establish contact with Marvin and other reliable colleagues to form a temporary alliance—going solo doesn't get you far in the apocalypse. The "good people" in the plot are often the most stable allies; this was a lesson earned from countless "Total Party Kills."
3. Locate fortified safe houses to weather the initial outbreak—look near both the Police Station and the Orphanage. Ideally, places with basements that are easy to defend and hard to breach. Don't expect one building to hold out until the end.
4. Collect Police Station keys and secure heavier firepower—the "Master Key" from the games might not exist in reality, but every extra key meant an extra path, and every extra gun meant more confidence and more capital to protect others.
After writing the last word, Lear folded the note and tucked it away close to his body. He looked up again, his eyes calm as he stared at the Orphanage, which sat eerily quiet outside the window. As the sky grew darker, the Orphanage's lights seemed particularly lonely and piercing. He knew well that this peace wouldn't last.
Since the moment he transmigrated into this world, he had never considered running away. You can dodge a crisis for a moment, but not for a lifetime; from here on, there would only be more and more incidents of Resident Evil. He would rather face it head-on than live a pathetic life in hiding.
Lear slowly stood up straight, watching the long shadows cast by the Orphanage, and let out a long, heavy breath. His voice, low and carrying a hint of resolve, echoed in the quiet room:
"Since I'm already here, I should at least change something."
(Translated by yourtl.app)