RE - Chapter 317: IF: What If Uncle Leon Were Forced to Work Overtime (Patreon)

“It’s a shame we couldn’t save Emily...”

“Grace.”

Uncle Leon slowly walked over to Grace Ashcroft, seeing the sadness in her eyes.

“I didn’t hit anything vital. She might still be alive.”

Ashcroft looked up at Uncle Leon. The grief in her eyes gave way to disbelief.

As if she could hardly believe what she had heard, she asked in a trembling voice, “What did you say?”

Seeing the joy Ashcroft could no longer hide, Uncle Leon felt the corners of his mouth lift as well. Then he said with certainty, “You might still have a chance to save her.”

At those words, Ashcroft gradually relaxed.

She trusted Uncle Leon.

The two smiled at each other for a few seconds before Uncle Leon finally turned and walked away.

As he headed toward the helicopter, Uncle Leon pulled off his tactical gloves, already so soaked in blood that they were barely recognizable, and tossed them onto the ground.

The mud beneath his feet was still thick and filthy. He reached into a compartment at his waist, pulled out a ring, and slowly slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand.

Under the surrounding spotlights, the ring caught the light for an instant, leaving plenty to the imagination.

“Mr. Kennedy.”

A BSAA member standing beside the helicopter greeted him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t prepare any tea for me.”

“Uh, sorry. Want me to get some?”

“No need. Just tell your captain I’m heading out. I’d rather not have a zombie drive off with my car while it’s parked in the city.”

Uncle Leon rubbed his neck to ease the stiffness, then started toward the edge of the camp.

As he left, he connected to Sherry’s comm again.

“Ah... Guess what? I lost my jacket again.”

“I know what you’re getting at. I’ll contact the people at the nursing home and have them look for it.”

A smile crept into Uncle Leon’s eyes.

“That’d be great. I really like that jacket.”

Sherry leaned back in her seat, holding a cup of coffee in both hands as she replied with a faint smile, “Why not just buy another one?”

“She gave it to me.”

“Hmm... I see.”

At the camp entrance, Uncle Leon happened to run into the Hound Wolf Squad as they prepared to head into the city and clear out the remaining zombies.

“Mind giving me a ride?”

Canine glanced back at Uncle Leon, then jerked his head toward the vehicle, signaling for him to get in.

Uncle Leon immediately thanked him.

“Appreciate it. Put the fare on Chris’s tab.”

“You joke around just like the rumors say.”

Uncle Leon opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat, still teasing him.

“So I’m already that famous? People are talking about me everywhere.”

“Being too modest ruins the fun. We’ve all seen what you can do. Getting out of the Ark alive on your own earned our respect.”

Uncle Leon glanced into the rearview mirror at the BSAA members sitting in the back, then replied, “I wasn’t alone. Without Ashcroft, I would’ve died in there.”

“...She’s just an FBI clerk. She actually managed to help you?”

“I’m not exaggerating. She’s tougher than a lot of people I know.”

Canine glanced at Uncle Leon and shrugged.

The vehicles started moving. With Canine in the lead, the convoy of four SUVs headed toward downtown Raccoon City.

Dust billowed along the road, leaving long trails hanging in the air. It was so thick that not even the moonlight could break through.

As Uncle Leon watched the scenery outside the window, he couldn’t help thinking about the Raccoon City of years ago.

Now there were ruins everywhere, the zombies had risen again, and then there was everything he had experienced over the past two days.

He had to admit, Grace Ashcroft’s experience seemed remarkably similar to his own. She had been trying to escape, only to stumble upon the truth, meet people who needed saving, and end up fighting for them.

Hopefully Emily was all right.

He would have to keep an eye on that situation.

That thought reminded Uncle Leon of something else, and a trace of old sorrow crept into his eyes.

Those sticky notes... Marvin’s daughter?

Sorry. I couldn’t save you either.

It wasn’t until Canine spoke that Uncle Leon finally snapped out of his thoughts.

“Leon, we’re here.”

“...Thanks. Happy hunting.”

“Thanks. Be careful out there. There are still plenty of zombies in this city.”

Uncle Leon nodded, then turned and walked toward the street where he had parked.

After just one day, a thin layer of dust had already settled over the Cayenne. Uncle Leon stared at it for a moment before opening the door and getting inside.

The air freshener made his nose feel a little better.

“God knows how much dust I breathed in today. This place seriously needs cleaning.”

Even Uncle Leon almost laughed after saying that.

Cleaning this place up?

How many years had it been, and it was still the same miserable wreck.

Uncle Leon shifted into gear and gave it some gas, turning the Cayenne around before speeding back along the road toward the outskirts of Raccoon City.

The scenery was still nothing but ruins, so Uncle Leon turned on some music just to keep himself alert.

“Sherry, you there?”

“What is it?”

“These last couple of days brought back a lot of memories. Even things I never knew about before.”

“...Raccoon City. We left a lot of memories buried there, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. It’d be nice if we could go back sometime.”

“Leon, you sound like you’ve aged more than ten years.”

“I wish. Then I could collect my pension and live a nice, quiet life.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Le... You... saying something like...”

Uncle Leon frowned as static crackled intermittently through his earpiece.

“Sherry?”

“...Maybe... I’ll go... and then...”

Before Sherry could finish, the earpiece suddenly went silent.

Uncle Leon kept his eyes on the road as he removed it, then lowered his head to inspect it.

“One thing after another. Looks like I need to start buying better gear.”

When Uncle Leon looked up again, the mild annoyance on his face instantly froze before turning serious.

A moment ago, both sides of the road had been nothing but dry, cracked earth scattered with dead branches.

In the brief instant he had looked down and back up, everything had become a lush green forest.

Even the gas station he passed was brightly lit again, appearing before his eyes like a mirage.

As the gas station disappeared into the rearview mirror, Uncle Leon gave a bitter smile.

“...I must be too tired.”

He opened the compartment on the passenger side and took out a piece of gum, hoping a little sugar would perk him up.

Just then, a light appeared far down the highway and steadily drew closer to the Cayenne.

Uncle Leon instinctively slowed down, his right hand resting on his holster, ready to lower the window and fire at a moment’s notice.

But the Jeep passed him without incident.

Uncle Leon, however, went completely rigid in his seat.

The Cayenne slowed further and further until it finally stopped at the side of the road.

The reason was simple.

He thought he had recognized the person behind the wheel of that Jeep.

...That’s right.

It was him.

Leon S. Kennedy.