[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 546 - An Unexpected Windfall

Spencer Mansion. Second floor library.

A serpent the size of an intercity train was coiled around the chandelier, flicking a crimson tongue.

This was the apex predator of the Spencer Mansion, an absolute ruler that even the high-intelligence Hunters refused to provoke.

Chris stood in the doorway, looked up at the thing, then turned to Jill. "It's too big. Small-caliber rifles won't cut it, we could empty every magazine we have and still not punch through those scales."

Jill nodded and stepped half a pace to the side.

Under Wesker's disbelieving stare, Chris reached into that oversized tactical pack, the one that looked like it held equipment magazines, and pulled out a full AT4 rocket launcher.

That was not a tactical pack.

What kind of SWAT officer brings a rocket launcher on a call?

Chris hefted it onto his shoulder, flicked the safety off, and took aim.

"Let's go!"

The exhaust kicked back. The rocket screamed toward the serpent on a long white tail of smoke.

The snake didn't manage a single evasive movement. Half its body and an entire load-bearing wall blew clean off the second floor.

Brick and rotted timber crashed down in a roaring cascade. One whole side of the Spencer Mansion's second floor was gone.

Wesker finally snapped.

He seized the radio, veins standing out on the back of his hand, every trace of his usual cold composure abandoned.

"Chris! What the hell are you doing!" The sheer force of his fury warped his own voice.

From the other end came Chris's utterly relaxed tone, undercut by the clanking of a fresh round being loaded into the launcher.

"Oh, Captain. You mean this? Yeah, it's a rocket launcher." A short laugh. His voice was as easy as a man discussing new menu items at a corner burger joint.

"This rescue mission's important, right? So we all put our heads together — it's rough terrain out here, not exactly safe — and we pooled some cash to work a deal with the Fort Benning garrison for a little extra firepower."

"Don't worry, Captain. We've got plenty of rounds. Logistics is absolutely solid!"

Plenty your ass.

Wesker bit down, keyed a single acknowledgment, then slammed the radio onto the control console hard enough to split the plastic casing open in a long crack.

These bastards were supposed to be testing bioweapons. Not running a live-fire heavy bombardment exercise.

The Hunters, the serpent, the plant, all of it ground into nothing by sheer, unreasonable firepower.

Forget collecting extreme live-combat data.

If H.C.F. ever saw this operational report, they would reach exactly one conclusion:

Umbrella Corporation's bioweapons, developed at enormous cost, couldn't survive a single RPG-7 Rocket Launcher round.

Hand this over as a proof of loyalty and his new employer would write him off as a con artist looking to embezzle research funding.

Jill covered her mouth and laughed softly.

This wasn't a death-defying mission. This was a demolition job.

And every one of these weapons had been personally vetted by Leon.

Before they left, Leon had already briefed them, what creatures they might encounter inside the Spencer Mansion, what each one's weaknesses were, which weapons were best for killing them.

It had all played out exactly that way.

Every creature they'd run into was something Leon had already told them about.

To make sure nothing went wrong, he'd had them memorize the full briefing, then checked each of them individually. He'd been afraid they might not take it seriously enough.

Jill found herself genuinely curious about the man.

How did he know everything?

Outside the Spencer Mansion.

Leon sat on the hood of the SUV while Ada worked a modified military laptop, fingers moving fast across the keys.

"All the data and experiment logs from Chris just came through." Ada stopped typing and turned the screen toward him.

"The core cultivation data on Plant 42 and the aquatic mutant Neptune from the lower-level database. It's all here."

Leon dropped his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his boot.

"Nice work."

He took the laptop and glanced at the progress bar.

"Candice and William have been itching for new research material."

"Plant-type and aquatic-type gene sequences — perfect for them to cut their teeth on."

"This trip to the Arklay Mountains was completely worth it."

Inside the mansion, explosions rang out one after another, rattling the ground underfoot.

Chris and his crew had clearly lost themselves in it.

Their apocalypse-frayed nerves had been bottled up for a long time. Now they finally had an unlimited-firepower experience card in hand and Leon the "arms dealer" backing them up, who the hell cared about tactical positioning? They just steamrolled straight through.

An unlucky giant spider had barely crawled out of a ventilation shaft and started spinning its web before Barry Burton put a grenade round through it and sent it straight back to hell, without it ever getting the chance to spit a drop of venom.

Wesker, at this point, probably wanted to die.

A meticulously planned killing ground, reduced by this band of SWAT officers into a shooting arcade.

"Almost time." Leon checked his watch.

"The actors have done their part. They're about to run into the Tyrant."

"Time for us to step in."

➤ Next: Curtain Up