After a quick shower at her Westbrook home and a healthy breakfast prepared by her robotic chef, Vera took her usual hover car to the company plaza and landed at Arasaka Tower's internal pad.
Whirr... whirr...
As the landing gear touched down, Vera stepped out of her customized luxury hover car, breakfast wrapped in parchment paper in hand. She glanced back at the landing pad, scanning it twice. In terms of size and defense, her Excalibur was still the most heavily armored.
Reinforced plating, upgraded electronic countermeasures, anti-intrusion ICE, detachable modular armor carrying attack drones, compartments for specialized combat robots, smart-controlled cannons, micro-hive rocket pods...
Still not enough.
Once she graduated from Tokyo University's Law Department, she'd get a Zetatech Octant heavy combat drone for escort duty.
The thought brought a faint smile to her lips, but she quickly collected herself.
"Director Vera, here's the practical training program you arranged with Arasaka Academy this year. The personnel have been randomly selected and already dispatched. Please review."
The Security Department clerk, waiting at the pad exit, froze when he saw her but quickly recovered, falling in step behind her with a PDA in hand.
"That's fine. Location…" Vera skimmed the list. "Set it at the Badlands mobile garrison camp. Let the students get in some target practice, half a day of guard duty, and a bit of contact with nomads."
She clicked her tongue. Randomly selected? Every name was connected.
"No need for special treatment. Handle them normally. And tell the team—no death quotas. I don't want to see any bodies."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The clerk nodded repeatedly. Only after Vera walked off did he glance at the approved list.
Aside from children of Security Department staff, a few other names stood out.
Tanaka Katsuo—son of R&D's Tanaka, the one overseeing some project.
David Martinez. Never heard of him. Grades looked solid. A genius commoner?
`[List review approved]`
`[Send]`
Beep.
---
Click.
Reaching the Security Department floor, Vera didn't head to her own office but toward the Deputy Director's.
James Thomas.
Through the darkened security checkpoint, twin machine gun turrets loomed while a scanner pulsed blue light across her.
AI: `[Visitor authentication complete and approved]`
"Mr. Thomas."
The door slid open. Inside, James Thomas sat on the couch with a coffee in hand.
A dark suit, silver chrysanthemum pin—Arasaka's emblem of military service. His neatly combed, graying hair gave him a dignified air.
"Oh, Vera—please, sit..." He paused, squinting. "Hmm. For a second I didn't recognize you. Did something good happen? Wearing makeup today?"
Vera hesitated. After last night, her energy was sharper, her spirit brighter—was it that obvious?
"Ah, just a little makeup," she lied, settling gracefully into a seat. She unwrapped her parchment bag, pulling out a ham-and-cheese sandwich and offering it. "I tweaked the program on Caroli's multi-function domestic robot."
She called him "Mr," not by title—this was relationship building. With no conflict of interest, Thomas accepted the sandwich easily, smiling as he prepared fresh coffee.
"You seem in high spirits. What's the good news?"
"My admission to Tokyo University's Law Department was approved."
Thomas froze briefly, then kept his expression steady as he handed her a cup. "That's excellent news. Congratulations. When do you leave?"
"Next spring, when the semester begins."
He immediately understood why she'd come.
"And your Special Assault Unit duties? How will you handle those?"
"I'll still be responsible. This admission is more like night school—graduation is harder, but the schedule is flexible. While I'm studying, I recommend Jimmy, Captain of Team 6, as temporary assistant to coordinate the Unit."
---
Click.
Leaving Thomas's office, Vera glanced at the bag of premium hand-ground coffee in her hand, raising an eyebrow.
A gift from Thomas.
He'd ground it himself, supposedly without learning chips—purely by hand.
Rich people. When chips were expensive, they boasted of chip learning; now that natural learning was rarer, they flaunted that instead. The more time-consuming and labor-intensive, the better.
She accepted it just as he had accepted her sandwich. The meaning was plain: I looked after your interests this time. Next time—mine or my successor's—you'll owe me in return.
Favor for favor. An exchange.
Back in her office, Vera stored the coffee in the fridge, then turned her attention to her terminal.
Message—
From: Biotechnology R&D Department [Night City]
Director Russell, your Umbrella personal research lab has been vacant for one month and seven days. Please fulfill your part-time obligations.
Swish...
Her fingers brushed the desk as a mischievous smile appeared.
Perfect. There was her excuse.
During this time, I'll focus on biotechnology research and product development. Please, other me—secure the T-virus source material and accompanying virology data.
---
Resident Evil
Umbrella Industrial Park, San Francisco.
The Black Umbrella Division Director was in mid-speech, introducing drone production to Pentagon officials, when her expression flickered with faint helplessness.
"Ms. Russell, could we get some hands-on experience?"
The general hadn't noticed her momentary slip, fully convinced by her pitch and eager to try the technology firsthand.
"Of course."
She signaled the workshop supervisor to hand over assembled drones while staff instructed the soldiers.
Amid a chorus of "Oh my gosh," veterans of overseas combat marveled at the drones' responsiveness and clear reconnaissance feeds.
With even the general personally testing them, Umbrella staff beamed—this deal was as good as done.
Only Director Vera looked thoughtful.
Not about the California plant, but about one thing:
The Raccoon City incident will happen this summer.