RE - Chapter 309: Don’t Hit Where It Hurts (Patreon)

“Africa, huh... Holy crap, this market is a complete mess.”

After a flurry of typing, Grace hacked into a local African black market site and started browsing the listings.

It had everything. Porn, gambling, drugs.

Somehow, the only thing that looked remotely normal was the trafficking of actual people.

Grace chewed on her milk candy, her eye twitching.

“I’m genuinely worried I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Alan hadn’t seen the listings himself, but he could imagine.

“Think about it. Ever since Umbrella’s research data leaked, Africa has become one of the places where viral outbreaks happen most often. It’s not hard to guess where all those people researching viruses went.”

“...Man, those people have it rough. But I don’t get something. Hasn’t the UN tried to stop any of this?”

Alan shook his head.

“Even if they want to, there’s only so much they can do.”

“Why?”

“You think people conduct viral experiments in Africa because of the population density and social instability? That’s part of it, but the biggest factor is corruption among local leaders. Plenty of them rise to power with popular support based on ethnicity or religion, then turn around and exploit their own people for money and power.”

Grace blinked, then suddenly understood.

“I get it. So the people at the top control everyone below them and hide what’s happening from the international community. Even if ordinary people are being treated inhumanely, outsiders can’t simply interfere with another country’s internal affairs?”

Alan finished his meal and gave her a thumbs-up.

“You catch on fast.”

Then he sat down on the couch beside her and looked at the contents of her laptop.

“So? Find anything interesting?”

“Nothing interesting. Plenty of disturbing stuff, though. Are they seriously selling viruses this openly? And antimicrobial agents too... I can literally see the Umbrella logo in some of these pictures!”

Alan smiled.

“Hey, don’t be so one-sided about it. Umbrella really did start out selling pharmaceuticals.”

His gaze moved farther down the page, scanning the other merchant listings.

One unusually mundane product caught his attention.

“Majini Wine?”

Grace looked at the listing too.

It seemed so ordinary that she couldn’t understand why Alan had singled it out.

“You’re suspicious of it because it looks too normal?”

“Pretty much. Think you can pull up the purchase history?”

“...That might be difficult. I’ll try.”

While he waited, Alan went over his memories again, making absolutely sure that the infected creatures from Resident Evil 5 were called Majini.

He checked it several times in his head.

Definitely Majini.

So that settled it.

Looks like those people had already started selling them.

“Ha! Found it! But I can only access this week’s records. Anything older needs higher authorization, and I’m worried they’ll trace me back through my IP. Then we’d really be screwed.”

“That’s fine. This week is enough.”

Alan looked over the purchase records.

Sure enough, most of the buyers were repeat customers, each with more than five purchases.

And the dates were... a few weeks ago.

After mentally matching up the timeline, Alan raised an eyebrow.

So the trade had only recently begun. It hadn’t yet reached the scale where it could start influencing regional wars.

“Can you trace their IP?”

“...No. They’ve buried it behind several layers of code.”

Alan decided not to push her any further.

Instead, he smiled.

“You’re a lot better than I expected. You can already do this much?”

“Thanks~”

Alan thought for a moment, then stood.

“I’m heading out. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

“Huh? You just got home and you’re leaving again? Aren’t you tired?”

Alan put on his coat, slipped his watch onto his wrist, and adjusted his clothes as he looked at Grace.

“I’ve been resting for half a year. I’m going stir-crazy.”

...

“Carla, you haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

Simmons sat behind his desk, frowning at Carla across from him.

“The experiments haven’t produced any useful data lately either. I’m worried about you.”

Hearing that, Carla felt a dull heaviness in her chest.

How had she never realized before just how self-serving Simmons could be?

When she didn’t answer, Simmons irritably rubbed his temples.

“Listen, Carla. I know the church incident frightened you, but I promise nothing like that will happen again.

“All of the research data is safe too... Carla, you’re the only person I can rely on now!”

For once, Simmons meant every word.

Victor had been poached by Zeno, leaving Carla as the only top-tier researcher under him whom he genuinely trusted.

It wasn’t that he had no other researchers.

None of them were simply as useful as Carla.

Carla herself was deeply conflicted.

Ever since the church incident, she had been increasingly wary of Simmons. Every day, she waited for Leon to uncover what Simmons was truly after.

But there had been no word.

She could understand why.

Even from her limited perspective, she had noticed Simmons assigning Leon several missions lately that were practically death sentences.

It was only recently, after Simmons realized that Leon apparently had no intention of exposing his secrets to the world, that those attempts had stopped.

“...I’m sorry, Simmons. But I haven’t really rested since the church incident. Mentally, I mean.

“Could you give me a few days off? I think I need some time away to clear my head.”

Simmons’s first instinct was to refuse.

“You’re all I have left now, Carla. It’s far too dangerous outside. So... ah, fine. Fine.”

Apparently realizing that forcing her wouldn’t accomplish anything, Simmons sighed.

“I’ll give you three days. By the way, aren’t you and Annette good friends? You could ask whether she’d be interested in working here.”

Carla paused in surprise.

“Haven’t you always said she worked for Umbrella and couldn’t be trusted with anything important?”

Simmons chuckled.

The real reason he had never given Annette much responsibility was simply that she wasn’t ruthless enough.

But now he was genuinely short-handed.

If she could be recruited, then recruit her.

And if she couldn’t?

He would find another way.

“The situation is different now. I won’t say much more, but you can mention the offer to her. Just like before, don’t tell her anything about our actual research yet.

“If she agrees to come, your workload will be much lighter. You could take time off like this regularly. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

Carla’s mouth twitched.

Who exactly was responsible for making her work overtime for six straight months?

And now he was talking as if he were some kind of saint.

“...Fine. I’ll try.”

“Good. Then leave tonight. Someone else will take over your work.”

Under Simmons’s gaze, Carla stood and left the office.

Once outside, she let out a quiet sigh.

A lingering sense of disgust sat on her tongue and refused to go away.

A moment later, she removed her white lab coat and headed toward the changing room.

“Dr. Carla? What’s going on?”

“Simmons approved some time off.”

“Seriously? That’s great. You’ve been getting forced into overtime constantly lately.”

The woman speaking glanced around, then leaned close to Carla’s ear.

“Simmons treats you like you’re not even human!”

The moment she finished, she hurriedly straightened up and cautiously watched Carla’s expression.

Normally, she never would have dared say something like that to Carla.

But lately, she had noticed how cold Carla had become toward Simmons and sensed that something had changed between them.

Carla was also kind to everyone, and quite a few people had grown concerned about how badly Simmons had been overworking her.

Carla calmly changed her clothes without reacting.

Then, seeing the nervous expression on the other woman’s face, she finally gave a bitter smile.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“...I knew it. You should’ve seen through Sim... ahem, seen through him a long time ago.”

“Yeah. Keep it to yourself.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

Carla picked up her bag and looked at the usually timid support worker.

She never would have expected that the person at the institute who noticed how she was really feeling would be someone she had barely interacted with before.

“Carla, you’re so talented... Your taste in men is just terrible.”

Carla’s mouth twitched.

All right.

This woman really knew how to hit where it hurt.

“I’m leaving.”

“Huh? You don’t want to stay and talk a little longer? We hardly ever get the chance...”

Watching Carla walk away, the woman could only pout.

“Whatever. Guess I’ll go sort the supplies.”