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The long flight across the entire Atlantic Ocean brought no respite.
It was a kind of exhaustion that seeped deep into the marrow of one's bones.
By the time the plane landed at Manhattan Regional Airport, the sky had completely surrendered to twilight.
As the taxi traveled along the highway back to Manhattan, the world outside the window felt like a completely different dimension from the Paris they had just escaped.
There were no ancient, oppressive Gothic buildings.
Instead, there were uniform suburban lawns and detached houses glowing with warm lights.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of grass and soil after rain, forming a sharp contrast to the smell of the cold, damp cobblestones in Paris.
Noah leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed, but his tightly furrowed brows betrayed the turmoil in his heart.
Claire leaned quietly on his shoulder, her gaze blankly watching the neon lights receding rapidly outside the window.
Her fingers unconsciously traced small circles on the back of Noah's hand.
That cold touch made Noah's heart sink as well.
He opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at the girl's profile, which appeared somewhat pale under the flickering streetlights.
He didn't speak, but simply turned his hand over to wrap her cold hand within his own palm.
The taxi finally came to a slow stop at the entrance of a quiet, high-end community by the Hudson River.
After paying the fare, the two of them carried their simple luggage along the familiar pebble-paved path.
Their four-bedroom, two-living-room villa stood quietly not far away.
Unlike the surrounding houses, it radiated an exceptionally warm and bright light at this moment.
Through the large floor-to-ceiling window of the living room,
a scene sufficient to melt all coldness came into their view.
In the living room, on the soft beige carpet, Sherry was sitting cross-legged, hugging a large teddy bear.
Her bright eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the television screen.
A brightly colored cartoon was playing on the screen.
Tom was being hit by Jerry with a huge frying pan, seeing stars.
The exaggerated and comical scene caused a wide smile to spread across Sherry's face unconsciously.
From the direction of the kitchen, behind the semi-open cooking counter,
a tall figure was busy, wearing a Winnie the Pooh patterned apron that clashed completely with his cool tactical style.
He was looking down, focused on arranging a plate of colorful vegetable salad into an exquisite shape.
From Noah and Claire's perspective, they could even see a bit of white cream stuck to his smooth blonde hair.
Warm orange light poured out from the kitchen, outlining his profile with an unprecedented softness.
The aroma of roasted meat wafted through the air, mixed with the sweetness of creamy soup and the mouth-watering scent of garlic bread.
This scene was too warm, too beautiful.
So beautiful it created an unreal illusion.
As if the bloody and cruel battle they had experienced yesterday in the underground of Paris was just a nightmare that would dissipate upon waking.
Claire's eyes grew moist without warning.
She sniffled and turned her head to look at Noah beside her.
Noah was also looking at her, his gaze deep and gentle.
He raised his hand and gently wiped away the tear at the corner of her eye with his thumb.
Then, holding her hand, he walked step by step toward the heavy oak door that symbolized "home."
They hadn't brought keys.
In a place like Paris, any extra items that could potentially reveal their identity were a potential danger.
Noah raised his hand and knocked gently on the door three times.
"Thump, thump, thump."
The sound wasn't loud in the quiet night, but it was enough to penetrate the door panel.
In the living room, Sherry's ears immediately perked up alertly.
She turned her head toward the door, her beautiful large eyes filled with confusion.
"Who is it?"
Her voice was as clear as a wind chime.
"Sherry, go open the door."
Leon S. Kennedy's voice came from the kitchen.
"It's Brother Lin Yuan and Sister Claire, they're back."
Noah had called in advance, asking Leon S. Kennedy not to tell Sherry so they could give her a surprise.
"Really!"
A smile brighter than sunshine instantly bloomed on Sherry's face.
She tossed aside the teddy bear, leaped up from the carpet like a happy fawn, and rushed barefoot toward the door.
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed down the door handle with some effort.
With a "click," the door opened.
Outside the door stood the two people she had been longing for day and night.
Noah and Claire stood there quietly under the light at the entrance.
Their faces bore the fatigue of travel, but their eyes were filled with an unspeakable tenderness.
"Sherry," Claire's voice was a bit raspy.
The next second,
Sherry was like a small cannonball being fired, lunging fiercely into Claire's arms.
"Sister Claire!"
She used all her strength to tightly hug Claire's waist, burying her small face deep into Claire's soft embrace.
That familiar and reassuring scent instantly broke down all the strength she had maintained over the past few days.
At first, she just laughed happily, nuzzling against Claire's chest repeatedly.
"You're finally back, I missed you so much..."
"You have no idea, Brother Leon... he insisted I finish my homework before I could watch TV..."
She rambled on.
As she spoke, her voice began to take on a heavy nasal tone.
Her large, bright eyes filled with crystal-clear tears.
Then, the tears rolled down uncontrollably like pearls from a broken string,
wetting the front of Claire's clothes.
She began to cry out loud.
There was no grievance in that cry, only the joy of recovery and the worry she had suppressed for too long.
She was afraid.
She was afraid that they, like her mom and dad, would suddenly disappear from her world again.
Claire knelt down and held the small girl tightly in her arms.
Her own tears also flowed uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, Sherry, I'm sorry..."
She kissed Sherry's forehead over and over, using her body heat to soothe this poor, frightened child.
"We're back..."
Noah stood to the side, quietly watching the two of them, one big and one small, weeping in each other's arms.
His heart was filled with mixed emotions.
There was heartache and guilt, but more than that, there was an unprecedented sense of fulfillment and peace.
Just then,
Leon S. Kennedy took off his apron and walked to the door.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching this scene that was sad yet incredibly warm, a genuine smile appearing on his face.
"Welcome back."
His voice was gentle and steady, dispelling the last trace of sadness from their parting in the air.
"Dinner is almost ready."
This simple sentence was more effective than any comfort.
Sherry sobbed and looked up from Claire's arms.
She messily wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, and her face, which looked like a little calico cat from crying, showed a look of great anticipation.
"That's great!"
Her voice still carried a sob, but it had recovered some of its former liveliness.
"I can finally eat the food Brother Lin Yuan cooked!"
The air instantly froze, and the warm, genial smile on Leon S. Kennedy's face stiffened at the corners of his mouth.
He looked down at Sherry and said in an extremely hurt tone,
"Sherry, saying that makes me very sad."
Sherry stuck out her tongue and made a face.
She glanced at the lavish dinner Leon S. Kennedy had clearly prepared with care and lowered her head somewhat sheepishly.
"Okay..." she muttered softly.
"The food Brother Leon made is... is also not bad."
She paused, looked up, and added in an extremely serious tone,
"Although, it's still a little bit worse than what Brother Lin Yuan makes."
She held up her pinky finger, gesturing an almost negligible, tiny distance.
Leon S. Kennedy was completely amused by her cute appearance.
He reached out and dotingly ruffled Sherry's soft, short blonde hair.
Noah and Claire also looked at each other and smiled.
The gloom that had weighed on their hearts for days regarding Paris and Chris seemed to be much diluted at this moment by the warm atmosphere of home.
The dinner was lavish beyond imagination.
A colorful, nutritionally balanced fruit and vegetable salad.
Rosemary roast meat, charred on the outside and tender on the inside, overflowing with juices.
A rich, creamy mushroom soup with a silky texture.
And garlic bread, toasted to a golden crisp and emitting a rich aroma.
Claire took a bite of the perfectly roasted meat, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes.
Leon S. Kennedy's cooking skills had indeed improved quite a bit.
At least far better than her, a kitchen disaster who only knew how to heat up frozen pizza in the microwave.
The four of them sat around the warm dining table.
Sherry was like a chirping little sparrow, constantly recounting the various interesting things that had happened while they were away.
For instance, when Leon first tried to learn how to make her breakfast, he nearly set the kitchen on fire.
Or how a certain chubby boy at school tried to steal her snacks again, only to be subdued by her with a beautiful shoulder throw (Leon had taught her).
Her storytelling was vivid, full of childhood innocence and wonder.
Noah, Claire, and Leon all listened quietly.
Gentle smiles never left their faces.
This meal was eaten slowly, lasting a long time.
It was as if they wanted to make up for all the missing warmth and companionship from the past few days all at once.
After the meal, the four of them cleaned up the kitchen together, playing and joking around.
Leon was in charge of washing the dishes.
Noah was in charge of drying them.
Claire and Sherry were responsible for putting the clean dishes back into the cabinets.
Sherry stood on her tiptoes, trying hard to place a plate on the highest shelf.
Claire smiled as she took the plate from her hand and easily tucked it inside.
The kitchen was filled with the sound of rushing water, the clinking of dishes, and the lighthearted laughter of the four of them.
It was a long-lost, happy noise, full of the essence of daily life.
The four played games on the rug together; Leon and Noah were still no match for Sherry... Once everything was finally tidied up,
Sherry also finally succumbed to a deep drowsiness.
Claire carried her back to her princess room, filled with pink elements, tucked her in, and pressed a goodnight kiss onto her forehead.
Looking at Sherry's calm and peaceful sleeping face, Claire's heart finally settled completely.
Only Noah, Claire, and Leon remained in the living room.
They didn't sit on the soft sofa.
Instead, they sat on the floor by unspoken agreement, surrounding the thick, long-pile rug spread on the ground.
The electronic flames in the fireplace danced silently, emitting a soft orange glow.
The atmosphere turned somewhat solemn in an instant.
The lighthearted and cheerful vibe from earlier in the day had quietly faded away.
It was replaced by the heavy reality belonging to adults.
Noah briefly recounted the events of their trip to Paris to Leon.
From the complex decryption mechanisms beneath the Palais Garnier to the frenzied Licker feast in the underground cable car.
From Durand's obsessive and twisted pursuit of "eternal love" to the final holy mother of filthy blood fused from countless corpses.
He spoke calmly, without adding any subjective emotion.
But the thrilling dangers hidden behind that calm narrative made Leon's expression grow increasingly grave.
His brow was tightly furrowed.
When he heard that Chris had been lured to Rockfort Island by Wesker with false information in an attempt to save Claire.
A flash of irrepressible anger crossed Leon's eyes.
"Wesker..." he squeezed the name out through gritted teeth.
Those gentle blue eyes were now filled with cold murderous intent.
"He will pay the price." Noah nodded.
His gaze fell upon the dancing flames in the fireplace, his eyes becoming somewhat distant.
"In Durand's complete diary, I found some very interesting things."
He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts.
"One page in particular was recorded very uniquely."
"The veronica virus."
He spoke the name, which was completely foreign to Leon.
"veronica virus?" A confused expression appeared on Leon's face.
Claire's heart also leaped into her throat; she knew this was the real point of tonight.
"Ve-ro-ni-ca (veronica)."
Noah repeated it slowly, syllable by syllable.
"This virus is a masterpiece developed by Alexia Ashford, a Genius girl from the Ashford Family, one of Umbrella's founding families, when she was twelve years old."
"At the time, she was the head of the Umbrella Antarctic Research Facility."
"Twelve years old?"
Leon's face was written with unbelievable shock.
"A twelve-year-old child developed a new virus?"
"That's right." Noah's voice was calm.
"It sounds absurd, but it's the truth."
"Trant named our operation in Paris 'veronica'."
"He is a man with a strong desire for control and is extremely conceited."
"He wouldn't name his plan after something completely unrelated for no reason."
Noah's gaze moved from the fireplace flames and landed on Leon and Claire's faces.
"So, I have a bold hypothesis."
"Our next target is not just Rockfort Island where Chris is trapped."
"But also that Umbrella Antarctic Research Facility hidden at the end of the world."
The living room fell into a dead silence.
Only the electronic flames in the fireplace continued to dance tirelessly.
Leon fell silent.
He lowered his head, looking at his hands resting on his knees.
They were hands covered in thick calluses from years of holding a gun.
After a long time.
He finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with a deep exhaustion and powerlessness.
"I really didn't expect..." His voice was a bit raspy.
"That so much darkness was still hidden in places we couldn't see."
This world was like a giant rotten apple.
Shiny and beautiful on the surface.
But with just one gentle bite, you'd find it had long since been hollowed out by pests.
Crawling maggots and the stench of decay were everywhere.
Seeing Leon's somewhat dejected state, Noah suddenly remembered something.
He reached out and clapped Leon heavily on the shoulder.
The sudden force made Leon snap back to his senses.
"By the way." Noah winked at him, a slightly mysterious smile appearing on his face.
"Someone asked me to give you a letter."
"A letter?" Leon was stunned.
"Who? For me?"
Writing letters in this day and age was already something very vintage, even a bit sentimental.
Noah didn't say anything, just smiled as he pulled a neatly folded envelope from the inner pocket of his athletic jacket.
The envelope was pure white, of fine quality, with a sense of understated luxury.
Leon took the envelope with some confusion.
The moment his fingertips touched the envelope, he felt something was off.
The texture was delicate, smooth, and even carried a hint of cool temperature.
He flipped the envelope over, and his breath hitched instantly.
On the seal at the back of the envelope.
A perfect, bright red lip print with an inviting luster was quietly stamped there.
That red was so intense and bold, full of aggression.
It was as if it still carried the owner's body heat and a faint, intoxicating scent of perfume.
From that moment on, Leon's heartbeat began to accelerate wildly out of control.
He looked up, gazing at Noah with a look that was almost seeking confirmation.
Noah just gave him a meaningful smile.
Leon took a deep breath.
His hands, which were incredibly steady from years of holding a gun, actually showed a hint of trembling now.
He slowly opened the envelope with extreme care, as if he were handling a rare treasure.
A piece of stationery, also of fine quality, slid out from inside.
There was no writing on the paper.
Only in the very center of the stationery, an identical, perfect red lip print was stamped.
Leon was completely stunned.
He was like a green young boy experiencing his first awakening of love upon receiving a love letter from a girl he liked.
On his usually calm and steady face, a complex expression mixed with surprise, shyness, and being at a loss appeared.
He reached out his finger and gently rubbed back and forth over the lip print.
In those blue eyes, a light called "happiness" shimmered.
"Ada asked me to tell you."
Noah's voice rang out leisurely.
"She said she still owes you a date."
Leon's body jolted.
His already somewhat flushed face instantly turned even redder.
"Really?" he asked instinctively, his voice full of unbelievable ecstasy.
Noah smiled and nodded.
Leon could no longer suppress the joy in his heart.
He lowered his head, looking at the lip print in his hand, his mouth splitting into a silly but incomparably bright smile.
At this moment, he was no longer the battle-hardened Leon S. Kennedy.
He was just an ordinary boy who had fallen in love.
Seeing this scene, Claire's heart, which had been hanging in mid-air due to her worry for Chris, felt as if it were gently supported by this sudden sweet atmosphere.
On her beautiful face, which had been constantly tense, a faint, heartfelt smile finally appeared.
Although this world was full of darkness and despair.
There were always some small and warm lights that unexpectedly illuminated the path ahead.
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