The Ill-Fated Debut of Wang Qiu's Team

"…Enough! That concludes my self-introduction. Now, let's move on to the task at hand. For every ten zombies you kill, you earn one reward point. Each crawler is worth a hundred points. Killing a teammate, however, will cost you a thousand."

Wang Qiu clapped his hands, then raised his right wrist, revealing a sleek watch. He turned to the others and continued, "You've all received your watches from the Lord God, haven't you? Take a look—there should be a name on the display. Alice. That's her, over there in the crimson evening gown with the daring slit. She's the female protagonist of this Resident Evil film. Now, let me be clear—this film is a contained horror piece. The entire plot takes place within the laboratory. To regulate difficulty, the Lord God has imposed a boundary: we cannot stray more than twenty meters from Alice. The moment you exceed that radius…"

He paused, then mimicked an explosion with his hands. "Boom. You're gone. Completely. Do you understand? Once she dies, that restriction may very well transfer to another key character. It's a relentless chain that forces us to keep moving forward."

"Wait, wait! This doesn't add up!" someone interjected. "Why is it Alice and not Matthew Addison? And why has the safe distance shrunk from a hundred meters to twenty?! This isn't how it was in the book!"

Upon seeing the name on his watch, Zheng Shuang, an avid fan of Terror Infinity, leapt up with a cry of dismay.

"Sigh… Trusting a book too much is as bad as not reading it at all, Brother Zheng," Wang Qiu said with a helpless sigh. "I've read Terror Infinity too. But clearly, the one standing before you isn't Zhang Jie. It's me. That alone should tell you something. Not to mention those two…" He gestured toward Doraemon and Shin-chan. "Just treat this as a completely different world."

After giving a rough explanation of the term "Lord God" and summarizing the plot of Resident Evil 1, the train began to slow. The surrounding characters stirred into action. Wang Qiu, seasoned and vigilant, let out a deep breath, drew his Desert Eagle once more, and said, "Heads up. The plot has now officially begun. From this point on, they can hear everything we say. Speak of the Lord God or the secrets of this space, and you'll lose ten points per sentence. Sometimes even more. And if you go into the negative, it'll be deducted from your next rewards. That said—focus first on surviving."

His warning sobered the six newcomers instantly; their faces turned grim, and silence fell.

Moments later, the train slowed to a stop. The American mercenaries gripped their rifles and filed out onto the platform, advancing cautiously toward the Hive entrance, covering one another in formation.

Wang Qiu and his new teammates hesitated briefly, then followed closely behind.

But just then—disaster struck.

Han Leilei, an editor from the northeast on a business trip, was burdened with the most luggage: a laptop bag, a large handbag, and a floral clutch. Years at a desk had dulled her reflexes, making her the least agile of the group.

The situation had escalated too quickly for her to react. It never crossed her mind to drop her baggage to lighten the load or discard the knickknacks hindering her movement. As a result, when everyone bolted from the train, she was instantly left behind—lagging even behind five-year-old Shin-chan and the portly, stubby-legged Doraemon.

Then came the fatal misstep. In her haste, Han Leilei's right heel got wedged between the train and the platform.

Losing her balance, she tumbled hard, her head striking the ground. Stars exploded in her vision as pain engulfed her.

By the time she groaned her way back onto her feet, the mercenaries, Umbrella employees, and travelers—especially Alice—had already pulled far ahead. Well past the twenty-meter boundary.

And so, without fanfare or suspense, Han Leilei met her end.

"BOOM!!!"

A thunderous explosion erupted. The blast, detonating from within, tore Han Leilei to shreds.

A grotesque rain of viscous flesh and gore sprayed in every direction—splattering walls, ceilings, and floors. One particularly gruesome chunk, still laced with bone fragments, shot toward Doraemon, striking him full in the face just as he turned to witness the blast.

But before he could even wipe away the blood, the carnage evaporated—vanishing as if it had never been. The doorway where her mangled remains should have lain was spotless, immaculate, untouched by death.

It was as though Han Leilei had never existed.

Indeed, aside from the travelers, the plot characters of Resident Evil 1 seemed completely unaware that an explosion had taken place. Focused on the task ahead, they had already reached the Hive's sealed gate and were cutting into the lock with a blowtorch.

Seizing the brief lull, Wang Qiu gathered the remaining teammates and, still shaken, addressed them in a low, stern voice.

"One down already. You saw what happens when the Lord God chooses to erase someone. Nothing left. Not even ashes. If you don't want to share her fate, you'd better stay close from now on."

Meanwhile, at the Hive entrance, the characters began interacting. The black mercenary leader pointed to a screen on his laptop as he explained their mission to the amnesiac Alice and her companions.

"This is the route into the Hive. The Hive lies beneath Raccoon City. We found you in this mansion above ground. The train took us here, to this entrance. That's where we're standing now."

The display shifted, revealing a sprawling, hive-like complex.

"This is the Hive—a top-secret underground research facility owned by Umbrella Corporation. It houses five hundred scientists and staff conducting classified experiments of critical importance. The specifics? Not even we know. Now this is our location, revealed by thermal imaging... The Hive has an automated defense system controlled by the Red Queen. If the Hive is breached, she releases a neurotoxin that knocks people unconscious for about four hours. When they wake, memory loss follows. The severity depends on individual physiology—could last an hour, a day, even a week…"

As he explained, the screen showed them at the platform edge above the Hive—a zone that would soon become a deathtrap crawling with the undead.

"Who are they?" Alice suddenly asked, pointing to Wang Qiu and the others.

This unexpected question caught everyone off guard. Until now, the mercenaries had completely ignored them, reinforcing the illusion that they existed outside the film's reality. But now, the heroine was addressing them directly.

The black team leader hesitated before answering, "They're security personnel. Registered in the company's database. Though frankly, they look more like civilians. There's a kid, someone in a raccoon costume, and two girls… No offense, but I doubt any of them qualify as soldiers."

Ah, yes. The obligatory Terror Infinity challenge. Now it fell to Wang Qiu to bluff their way through.

Had events mirrored the original novel, he could've simply kept quiet and let the moment pass.

But before he could say a word, Doraemon burst out indignantly:

"Clean your glasses! I'm a cat-type robot—not a raccoon!"

Clearly, the term "raccoon" struck a nerve.

And just like that, all eyes turned to Wang Qiu's group.

"A robot? That advanced already? And what a strange design…" a female soldier murmured, leaning in to examine Doraemon's round face. Even Alice drew closer with curiosity.

The ever-suspicious black captain leveled his gun at Zheng Shuang—the oldest of the bunch, whose mustache made him look like their ringleader. "Suspicious security officer, I think I deserve an explanation. Care to tell us who you are and where you come from?"

Zheng Shuang gaped at the muzzle, speechless.

Seeing the chaos spiral, Wang Qiu turned in desperation to their most reliable hope.

"Um… Nagato Yuki, could you… maybe help us out here? Another 'Data Manipulation' perhaps? If this keeps up, we'll start fighting the plot characters before we even enter the Hive!"

"…Understood. I've reestablished contact with the Data Integration Thought Entity. Large-scale data manipulation is now in progress. Interference complete. Hostile awareness significantly reduced."

With Nagato's voice as cold and steady as ever, the mercenaries who had nearly surrounded them suddenly dispersed again—one resumed torching the door, another resumed guard duty, a third casually checked her gun. A female soldier even pulled out a mirror and lipstick to fix her makeup.

Ah yes… Data Manipulation—the Swiss Army knife of cheat skills. All hail Lady Nagato Yuki, divine and mighty!