In Resident Evil with System

The streets of Raccoon City seemed to press in tighter as Azizah, Jill, Leon, and Kevin approached the makeshift UBCS checkpoint near Memorial Hospital. The once-bustling hospital stood like a silent sentinel of despair, its façade marked by shattered windows and streaks of blood. A thick haze of smoke hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy with the city's decay.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Jill murmured, her tone laced with tension. "These guys play by their own rules."

Azizah adjusted her Widow's Bite gauntlets, the faint hum of their energy giving her a sense of security. Her enhanced reflexes and instincts, courtesy of the gacha system, made her hyper-aware of every sound, every shadow that moved. She could feel the weight of the moment bearing down on the group.

Leon, walking beside her, gave a small, dry laugh. "It's not every day you walk into a potential trap willingly."

Kevin chuckled, though his shotgun was held firmly. "Speak for yourself, rookie. My gut's telling me to turn around and find a nice sewer to hide in."

Jill shot them both a look that silenced any further banter. "Focus. We're here to assess, not make friends."

---

As they rounded a corner, the checkpoint came into view. Barricades constructed from overturned vehicles and metal scraps formed a defensive perimeter. A cluster of heavily armed mercenaries in UBCS uniforms stood at the center, their weapons at the ready. Spotlights bathed the area in harsh light, cutting through the gloom. The group tensed as several rifles turned in their direction.

"Hold it right there!" barked a gruff voice. A tall man with a scar running down his cheek stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the group. His UBCS patch was prominent on his chest, and he carried himself with a commanding presence.

Jill stepped forward, her hand resting on her holstered pistol but not drawing it. "Carlos Oliveira said we'd be expected. We're here to talk."

The man eyed her suspiciously but lowered his rifle slightly. "You must be Valentine. Carlos mentioned you'd be coming." He waved a hand, signaling the others to stand down. "Name's Tyrell Patrick. I'm in charge of this checkpoint."

Azizah noted the tension in the air. The UBCS soldiers looked tired, their faces worn with exhaustion, yet their hands stayed steady on their weapons. These were seasoned fighters, and trust was clearly in short supply.

Tyrell gestured for them to approach. "You're lucky we didn't shoot first. Can't be too careful out here."

"Yeah, because Umbrella's known for their caution," Kevin muttered under his breath. Azizah elbowed him lightly, shooting him a warning glance.

Leon, stepped forward with a disarming smile. "We're just here to figure out if this alliance is worth the risk—for either of us."

Tyrell smirked, his sharp eyes sizing up Leon. "Risk, huh? That's funny coming from a bunch of cops, You're all out of your league here."

Leon's jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. "Maybe, But we've managed to survive this long without help from your people."

"Enough," Jill cut in, her tone sharp. "We didn't come here to trade insults. Where's Carlos?"

Tyrell nodded toward the checkpoint's interior. "He's inside, coordinating evac plans. Come on, but keep your weapons holstered. You make one wrong move, and my men will put you down."

Azizah felt her muscles coil with tension as they followed Tyrell through the barricades. The UBCS soldiers watched them like hawks, their mistrust palpable. She couldn't blame them. Umbrella's reputation painted them as ruthless, and any alliance felt as fragile as a thin layer of ice over deep water.

The interior of the checkpoint was surprisingly organized. Maps and charts were pinned to a makeshift command board, and supplies were neatly stacked in one corner. Carlos Oliveira stood at the center, his rugged features lighting up as he saw Jill.

"Valentine," he greeted warmly, stepping forward. "Glad you made it." He extended a hand, which Jill hesitated to take before finally shaking it.

"You've got a lot of nerve asking us to trust you," Jill said, her voice cool but not hostile. "What's your game, Oliveira?"

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "No game. We're just trying to save as many people as we can. Umbrella may have screwed up, but not all of us are monsters."

Azizah stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "And what's the catch? You don't expect us to believe you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Carlos met her gaze, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Look, I get it. You think we're just Umbrella's lapdogs. But trust me, we've lost people too. We're just trying to make the best out of a bad situation."

Leon crossed his arms. "Then explain Nicholai. Why is someone like him part of your team?"

At the mention of Nicholai, Carlos's expression darkened. "Nicholai's… complicated. He's not someone I trust either, but we don't have the luxury of picking our team. He's here, and we deal with it."

As the conversation continued, Tyrell and Kevin exchanged barbs in the background, their mutual disdain barely concealed. Meanwhile, Leon and Jill grilled Carlos for more details about the evacuation plan.

"We've set up a transport route," Carlos explained, pointing to the map. "It's risky, but it's the only way to get survivors out. The hospital is a key point for regrouping before we move them to safety."

"And what about the infected?" Azizah asked. "How do you plan to clear the area without drawing more attention?"

Carlos hesitated, glancing at Tyrell. "We've got a contingency plan. Explosives to create diversions. It's not perfect, but it's the best we've got."

"Explosives near a hospital?" Jill said, her voice rising. "You're risking more lives than you're saving."

Tyrell bristled. "Got a better idea, Valentine? Or are you just here to criticize?"

Before Jill could retort, Azizah stepped between them. "Enough. We're all trying to survive here. Let's focus on that."

The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Azizah's calm authority seemed to diffuse the tension, if only slightly.

As the group discussed logistics, Azizah couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her enhanced senses picked up on subtle movements, and when she turned, she caught a figure lingering in the shadows. Nicholai Ginovaef.

He stepped into the light, his cold smile sending a shiver down her spine. "Well, well. Looks like the RPD brought some new friends to play."

Azizah met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "And you must be Nicholai. I've heard a lot about you."

"All good things, I'm sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't worry, I'm just here to make sure everyone plays nice."

Carlos visibly tensed, but he said nothing. Nicholai's presence cast a shadow over the fragile alliance, and Azizah knew they would have to watch their backs.

As the meeting concluded, the group prepared to move into the hospital. Azizah, Jill, Leon, and Kevin exchanged glances, their unspoken agreement clear: the UBCS could be allies for now, but trust would come at a price.

Carlos placed a reassuring hand on Jill's shoulder. "We'll make this work, Valentine. I promise."

"You'd better," she replied, her eyes hard. "Because if this goes south, there won't be a second chance."

As they moved out, Azizah felt the weight of the mission pressing down on her. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but for the sake of the survivors, they had no choice but to push forward.

---

To Be Continued...