The Silver Squad now belongs to the director of the Umbrella Research Institute—Wesker's expression calmed, the anger from moments ago vanishing without a trace. He continued to stare at the computer screen, quietly awaiting a reply.
As the institute's director, Wesker also held a considerable position in the military, which made him exceptionally well-informed.
Two months ago, as the factional struggles within the military grew increasingly severe, Wesker had already sensed that something was wrong.
After a month of probing and indirect inquiries, he had more or less confirmed that the faction he belonged to was beginning to lose ground.
And if the higher-ups failed, he would very likely—no, absolutely—be thrown out as a scapegoat to save their own skins.
By then, it would be too late.
So, while the institute was still under his control, Wesker was desperately making contact, trying to trade it away in exchange for his own life.
He didn't understand. Even if the
Silver Squad had no practical value due to its exorbitant cost, the immense profits associated with "Silver" should have been enough to buy him a way out.
But all his contacts had been like stones dropped into the ocean, yielding not a single echo.
All his attempts had failed. Just as despair began to set in, things suddenly took a turn after today's routine combat test.
A line that had been silent all this time suddenly responded.
'Today's really my lucky day.'
Thinking this, he agreed to the other party's demands without a moment's hesitation.
As long as he could trade it for a way to survive, as long as he could survive! The
Silver Squad, the researchers—to hell with all of them!
'I have to live. I'm still young, I still have so many goals I haven't achieved, so many things I haven't experienced...'
Wesker looked as if he had grasped a life-saving straw. The corners of his mouth crept upwards into a sinister smile.
"Hee hee, I absolutely must survive!"
Standing behind Wesker, Ann paid no mind to whatever deal he was making on the computer. She remained focused on the data tablet, making no other movements.
Hearing Wesker's last words, Ann simply adjusted her glasses. The reflection of the light hid her gaze, which was as cold as if she were looking at a dead man.
As the institute's chief researcher, she didn't care about Wesker's betrayal, not until he composed himself, turned around, and asked:
"Have you selected the target for the sortie?"
After organizing and confirming the mission data, she sent a mobilization signal to the Silver Squad.
Ann pushed up her glasses, preventing Wesker from seeing her eyes, and replied seriously:
"Of course."
Hearing this, Wesker nodded in satisfaction and said:
"Good. Then issue the orders. Make sure that absolutely no one from the
Silver Squad comes back alive from this sortie."
"Yes, sir."
Ann replied firmly. The crisp, clean answer made Wesker nod in satisfaction again, his tone softening as if to comfort or reassure her.
"Don't worry. As long as the conditions are met, I guarantee you'll have the same chance to survive as I do."
Ann lowered her head, carefully examining the biometric data of the Silver Squad's captain, Anby, on the screen. Though, thanks to her meticulous adjustments, Anby was already no different from Ann ordinary girl.
Her cold expression couldn't help but soften. Through the screen, she gently caressed the face of the girl within it.
'Don't worry, Anby, my most prideful creation. You will survive. I promise.'
Wesker never imagined that Ann had never once bought into the empty promises he was selling.
Their goals had merely coincided for the time being.
————
Arriving at the sortie room to assign the mission to the Silver Squad, Ann froze when she saw the person standing at the front of the line. She couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.
"Anby?! Weren't you scheduled to sit this sortie out?!"
Researcher No. 1, who had come along as Ann assistant, kindly explained:
"Because the newest unit, Replica No. 11, was injured from overtraining, Replica No. 0 volunteered to take her place for this operation."
"What?!"
Seeing Ann's shocked expression, the researcher beside her found it a bit strange.
"Is there a need to be so surprised? Isn't this just a normal combat test?"
"N-no, it's nothing. Just... wait for me a moment. I forgot to grab some mission intel."
Ann's expression became a little strained. The moment she finished speaking, she hurried outside. Although the researcher was a bit puzzled, they didn't suspect anything.
Quickly ducking into a surveillance blind spot, Ann immediately took out a phone and made Ann encrypted call. After two beeps, Wesker's somewhat heavy, accented voice came through the line.
The instant the call connected, Ann forced down her anxiety, feigning indifference as she said:
"I'm requesting a postponement of the operation to destroy the
Silver Squad. Change it to a normal combat mission this time. Anby, Replica Zero, who was scheduled to be held back, has unexpectedly joined this operation."
But the man on the other end of the line remained unconcerned, his tone unhurried.
"I'm already aware of this intel. According to our projections, Replica No. 0's skills are more than sufficient for her to survive this mission."
His tone was casual, as if it were a trivial matter of no consequence.
"Besides, even if she does die on this mission, we still have No. 11 back at the institute. The requirement was always to preserve one replica, not a specific one."
Hearing the cold tone on the other end, Ann couldn't suppress the panic and anxiety in her heart.
"But—"
"No 'buts.' If we miss this chance, no one gets out alive. Not me, not you, and certainly not a single one of those replicas."
Wesker's words made Ann realize she was powerless to change anything. As a mere researcher, she had no say in matters outside of her work.
After composing herself, Ann walked slowly back into the sortie room. Her expression was normal as she issued the mission objective to the
Silver Squad squad:
"This mission's target is Ann Armored Hati Enhanced Elite Ethereal that recently appeared in the Crete Hollow. Intel reports its Ether energy is at level five. Any objections?"
"None. The Silver Squad will bring you victory."
At the front of a queue formed by eleven identical-looking girls, one with short white hair, orange eyes, and a small ponytail on her right side—much shorter than Ann's—answered in a formal, measured tone.
Looking at Anby before her, although Ann's heart was still filled with immense worry, at this point, all she could do was believe.
Believe in her most perfect creation.
She clenched her jaw and said with difficulty:
"In that case...
Silver Squad, sortie."
"Acknowledged." ×10
-
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