Resident evil : Rise of a Monster english

As Chris and I prepared to continue toward the manor, a piercing scream cut through the tension-filled air. A young woman in a torn and soiled lab coat was running desperately in our direction. Her fiery red hair trailed behind her, and her pale face was twisted in terror.

"Help me, please!" she screamed, glancing fearfully over her shoulder.

The source of her panic quickly came into view: three mutant Cerberuses, their fangs dripping with black saliva, bounded after her with predatory intent. Without hesitation, I drew my magnum and ran toward her. My shots rang out sharply, precise and unforgiving. One by one, the zombie dogs collapsed with guttural growls, their dark blood staining the rocky ground.

The young woman stumbled into Chris's arms, gasping for breath. He caught her skillfully before she could fall. "You okay, miss?" he asked gently but firmly, his hands steadying her.

Still shaken, she nodded weakly before finally managing to speak between ragged breaths. "Thank you… thank you so much." She struggled to compose herself, her wide eyes darting between Chris and me. "We were conducting tests… with our team… to see if we could reverse the damage caused by the T-virus… when all the cages opened!"

Her words faltered as a look of sheer horror crossed her face. "Oh no!" she exclaimed suddenly. "I hope… I hope the Giant Worm's cage hasn't been opened!"

I narrowed my eyes at her words, a flicker of concern crossing my mind. "And your name is?" I asked, interrupting her frantic thoughts to bring her back to the present.

For the first time since our encounter, she looked up at me, as if finally recognizing who I was. "Sophie… My name is Sophie," she said timidly, her gaze locking onto mine. Then, a spark of recognition lit up her face. "Mr. King, it's you!"

I smiled faintly, nodding. "Good morning, Ms. Sophie. Yes, it's me." I straightened, adopting a more formal tone. "I need to know, Sophie: does the island have a stronghold capable of sheltering and protecting a group of survivors?"

Sophie furrowed her brow, thinking intensely. She straightened slightly, regaining her composure despite her disheveled state. "The research center is… fairly secure," she finally said. "If the creatures are neutralized, the center can be completely sealed. Nothing would be able to get in once it's locked down."

"Perfect," I replied with an approving smile. I turned to Chris. "Chris, change of plans. We're going to secure as many people as possible. After all, these people are my valuable employees."

Chris shrugged, a small sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "You're the boss, Gerald."

I nodded toward Sophie. "Go with Chris. Find the four guys we passed earlier and recall the guards from the prison. I think your status might help convince them to follow you."

Sophie rummaged through the pocket of her lab coat, pulling out a slightly battered magnetic badge. She nodded with determination, though her face still showed hints of nervousness. "I have level 3 clearance out of 5, but… with all this chaos, I'm not sure they'll follow command protocol."

I gave her a confident look. "Try, but don't force anyone. Those who want to stay are free to do so."

Sophie nodded, casting one last glance in my direction before heading off with Chris toward the prison. I watched them descend the stairs until they disappeared from view, then turned to head in the opposite direction toward the research center.

I immediately summoned Tintin, my first evolved Tyrant G and undoubtedly the most memorable. When he appeared before me, with his bodybuilder physique and immaculate hairstyle—a nod to my childhood comic book hero—I couldn't help but smile. The fact that he had developed enough intelligence to hold simple conversations made him even more endearing… and slightly surreal.

"Tintin, we're clearing a building full of T-virus monsters. No injuries to humans unless they're fully zombified. Got it?" I said seriously, though a mischievous grin played on my lips.

He nodded with a stoic expression, his eyes locking onto mine. "Understood, sir," he replied simply, his deep but steady voice adding gravity to the moment.

I pulled a large-caliber rifle from my inventory, holding it in one hand before tossing it to him nonchalantly. "Catch, hero!"

Tintin caught the weapon effortlessly, but instead of simply accepting it, he raised an eyebrow—a gesture I had come to interpret as skepticism on his part. "Do you have anything else planned, or am I supposed to carry your ammunition too, sir?"

I chuckled, pulling a box of cartridges from my bag. "Don't be so grumpy, Tintin. Here's your ammo. Put it to good use."

I tossed the box of cartridges to him, which he caught with ease, though he didn't store them immediately. Instead, he gave me a mockingly stern look—about as mocking as a Tyrant G could manage. "You want to throw them one at a time too? Maybe we can make a game of it."

I raised my hands, amused. "Hey, don't tempt me, big guy. You know I've got great aim."

Tintin gave a slight shake of his head, letting out what almost sounded like a sigh, before emptying the box of cartridges into a pocket. Then, with a fluid motion that betrayed his constant training, he loaded two shells into the chamber of his weapon, a challenging glint in his eye.

"Ready for action, sir," he said with a nod, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I chuckled, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "That's the Tintin I know. Let's go kick some butt."

With this odd but sincere camaraderie, we moved together toward the research center, ready to face whatever the island had to throw at us.

We passed through a metallic gate that opened onto a courtyard strewn with abandoned shooting targets, their black silhouettes warped by time and bullets. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder mingled with damp earth. I scanned the area carefully, noting the details.

"Not the smartest idea to put a shooting range on the path to a research facility," I remarked nonchalantly, stopping in my tracks when I noticed strange movement on the ground.

A zombie, shambling toward us, suddenly vanished into the ground, sucked in as if by magic. A moment later, an enormous creature—a gigantic worm—briefly surfaced, moving in a circular motion. Its maw was lined with hooks and teeth, its slick skin glistening with a mixture of mucus and soil. It quickly plunged back into the earth, but the vibrations it left in its wake gave me a clear sense of its size: it was a monster.

"Stay still," I instructed Tintin, raising my hand to signal him not to move.

Tintin, usually stoic, scanned the terrain cautiously. His gaze shifted from the weapon in his hands to me, hesitation flickering in his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to have a rocket launcher in stock, would you?" he asked, his calm tone barely masking a hint of unease.

I shook my head with a sigh. "Not this time, big guy. But don't worry, I've got other tricks up my sleeve."

I quickly formulated a plan and summoned two of my most robust creatures. A reinforced Centurion, equipped with metallic legs capable of burrowing and slicing, appeared at my side, followed by an imposing G-Rhino whose massive muscles seemed to ripple with sheer power. Their arrival caused the ground to tremble slightly, and I couldn't help but grin.

"You two, target the far side of the field," I commanded firmly, indicating an area where I suspected the creature was lurking.

The G-Rhino charged with impressive force, its massive hooves crushing the shooting targets beneath them like twigs. The Centurion, more agile, followed closely behind, its legs digging into the ground to track the creature. As the Rhino crossed the courtyard, a portion of the ground suddenly gave way beneath its weight. A massive maw shot up, trying to grab one of its legs.

But my Rhino, true to its title as a modified giant, didn't falter. Its relentless charge forced the Giant Worm to fully emerge from its burrow, its massive body writhing in convulsive movements.

"Now, Centurion!" I shouted, giving my creature the signal.

The Centurion lunged immediately, its sharp pincers sinking into the worm's flesh with deadly precision. Mucus sprayed from the impact, and the creature let out a guttural screech that vibrated through the air around us. Tintin, observing the scene, raised his rifle.

"Hey, sir, if you want me to chip in, just say the word. That thing could probably feed an entire town," he quipped, adjusting his aim.

I raised a hand. "Hold off for now. Let's see if our friends here can wear it down before you waste your ammo."

The Giant Worm, despite the injuries inflicted by the Centurion and the Rhino's relentless stomping, refused to yield. It twisted violently, hurling chunks of dirt and debris in all directions. Finally, it managed to knock the Rhino back several meters with a sweep of its massive tail.

"All right, Tintin," I said with a nod. "Show me what you've got."

With a predatory grin, Tintin took position, his rifle firmly anchored against his shoulder. "With pleasure, sir."

The shot echoed across the courtyard. The bullet tore through the Giant Worm's gaping maw, burying deep into its skull. The monster convulsed, its movements growing increasingly erratic.

"And that's a wrap," Tintin declared, blowing on the barrel of his weapon, a satisfied grin on his face.

I approached the dying creature, observing it closely before storing it in my factory. "A good addition for underground work," I remarked, sealing it in the facility. Afterward, I did the same with the Centurion and the G-Rhino, silently thanking them for their efficiency.

We entered the Research Center, an imposing structure whose white and gray metallic walls were stained with blood and deep claw marks. Flickering neon lights cast a harsh glow over the facility, accentuating its eerie atmosphere. Each corridor felt narrow and oppressive, with shadows dancing along the walls.

Tintin, rifle in hand, remained vigilant by my side. The first hallways were littered with mutilated corpses, some visibly gnawed on by infected creatures. We had barely advanced a few meters when a group of zombies burst through a shattered door. Their guttural growls echoed down the corridor.

"All right, here we go!" Tintin announced, firing precise bursts, each shot piercing a zombie's skull.

I covered him with my magnum, taking down a zombie that tried to sneak up behind him. "I hope you're not getting bored of this routine, Tintin."

He chuckled as he reloaded. "Not at all, sir. It's like a shooting range, but with a bit more bite."

We methodically cleared the first corridors, eliminating around fifty zombies in the offices and laboratories. The scenes bore evidence of a desperate battle: overturned chairs, destroyed computers, and signs of struggle everywhere.

In one of the laboratories, a dozen infected rodents suddenly emerged from the ventilation ducts. Unlike the Cerberus or Lickers, these creatures showed no visible skin lesions or grotesque deformities. Their fur remained intact, and their rapid, coordinated movements made them particularly difficult to target.

"This is interesting," I remarked, observing their behavior. "They seem to have adapted well to the T-virus. Marcus and the others will love working on these specimens."

Tintin nodded, shooting with precision to capture several of them alive. "These little guys aren't as ugly as the others. Almost cute… if you forget they're trying to eat us."

I stored the captured rodents in the factory and continued our progress. Every room revealed more victims of Alexia's actions. Despite this, Tintin and I maintained total control, methodically neutralizing each threat.

After navigating several sections, we reached a more intact area secured by a reinforced door. Inside, we found 15 technicians, 10 guards, and three scientists crammed into an improvised metal shelter. Their pale faces and tattered clothing bore the marks of the terror they had endured.

The door opened slowly, and their eyes locked onto us, flickering between hope and suspicion. One of the scientists, an older man with a gray beard, stepped forward, trembling slightly.

"Who are you? Are you here to help us?" he asked.

I stepped forward calmly. "My name is Gérald King. Umbrella no longer exists. I am now the director of King Pharmaceuticals, and I'm here to reorganize and save what can be salvaged."

A murmur rippled through the group, their anxious expressions softening slightly. I continued, "You're going to be relocated to a safe place. But for that, I need you to trust me."

They nodded slowly, visibly too exhausted to resist. I briefly explained the new directives while sending an alert to Chris and Sophie to coordinate the evacuation.

With the help of one of the guards, Tintin and I conducted a final sweep of the center, eliminating the remaining creatures. The guard, though visibly shaken, guided us to hidden passages leading to annex laboratories where classified experiments had been conducted. We secured the area and retrieved a complete copy of the archived data from the server room.

As we wrapped up, I looked around, satisfied with our efficiency. "Good. The center is secure. We'll wait for Chris and Sophie, and then we'll head to the manor."

(Note of information: I know, it's a bit far-fetched ^^ but Tintin the Tyrant was just too tempting.)