Chapter 130: I can only play with you for seven minutes at most.

Chapter 130: I Can Spare Seven Minutes to Play With You

The four of them returned to the main entrance of the mansion along the mountain path. The heavy oak door was slightly ajar, with dim candlelight flickering from within, and the air was filled with a strange scent of dust mixed with old perfume.

"Split into two groups to investigate." Jill lowered her voice and flipped the safety on her M4A1. "Chloe and I will take the first floor to see if there's any sign of Alfred. Claire, you and Steve go to the second floor. Stay safe and contact us by radio immediately if anything happens."

"Understood." Claire nodded and gripped the submachine gun in her hand. Steve didn't speak, only silently following behind her, his footsteps much steadier than before.

His father's death was like a bucket of cold water, dousing all the impulsiveness and rebellion in him, leaving only a heavy desire for revenge and survival.

Jill and Chloe pushed open the door to the first-floor hall. Amidst the flickering candlelight, the portraits of the Ashford Family hanging on the wall came into view.

The portrait of Edward Ashford was placed in the center, his gaze sharp and spirited. Beside him was his son, Alexander, pale-faced with gloomy eyes.

In the far corner were the young Alfred and Alexia. The two blonde children were snuggled together, their smiles innocent and pure.

"How ironic." Chloe reached out to brush the dust off the portrait, her fingertip stopping on Alexia's face. "The family that founded the Umbrella Corporation ended up with their home destroyed and their family dead."

"Spencer's ambition has buried too many people." Jill walked to the door of the study and gently pushed it open.

The inside was a mess, with books scattered all over the floor and the desk rummaged through haphazardly. It was clear that Alfred had left in a hurry. She leaned down and picked up a diary with a gold-stamped cover, with Alfred's name written on the title page.

The handwriting in the diary was messy and manic, filled throughout with worship and praise for his sister, Alexia.

"Alexia is the only hope for the Ashford Family," "I will reclaim everything for her," "The Ashford Family must be revitalized"—these sentences were written repeatedly, the ink soaking through the paper.

"He's gone mad." Jill closed the diary and frowned. "To place all his hopes on his own sister."

Just as Chloe was about to speak, a slight noise suddenly came from the second floor. The two exchanged a glance and immediately raised their guns in alert. Claire's lowered voice came through the radio: "Jill, Chloe, we're in the second-floor corridor, we heard someone talking."

"Don't do anything rash, we're coming up right now," Jill responded in a low voice.

The second-floor corridor was covered with a dark red carpet that muffled all footsteps. Claire pulled Steve to hide at the corner, signaling him to keep quiet, then peeked out toward the bedroom at the end of the hall.

The bedroom door was ajar, with warm light shining from within. Through the gap, Claire could only see a blonde girl in a white dress with her back to her, sitting at the vanity and combing her long hair. The girl's figure was slender and elegant; it was Alexia Ashford.

But strangely, though she was clearly the only one in the room, the sound of a conversation between two people could be heard.

"Is it really necessary to go through so much trouble to deal with a few little girls? You even got captured, hahahaha." Alexia's voice was crisp and sweet, yet it carried an undisguised hint of mockery.

Immediately after, a familiar male voice sounded. It was Alfred's voice, his tone humble and guilty: "I'm sorry, Alexia, I've already worked very hard. There's a very strange girl among them whose strength is not like a human's; I was no match for her."

Claire's eyes widened suddenly. She stared intently into the room, confirming that only Alexia was there, yet Alfred's voice clearly came from her direction.

"The revival of the Ashford Family rests entirely on Brother's shoulders!" Alexia put down the comb, her tone becoming stern. "If you can't even handle such a small matter, what right do you have to be the heir of the Ashford Family?"

"I know, I know!" Alfred's voice carried a sob. "I will definitely reclaim that glory with my own hands and let you, my dear sister Alexia, become the glorious head of the Ashford Family! I will make everyone who looked down on us pay the price!"

"That's more like it." Alexia smiled with satisfaction, her tone turning sweet again. "I'll leave the rest to you, Brother. I'll let them know the consequences of angering the Ashford Family... Who's there!"

She suddenly turned her head, her cold gaze shooting straight toward the direction of the window.

Startled, Claire immediately pulled Steve to hide around the corridor corner, holding her breath. After a few seconds, she heard footsteps in the room as Alexia walked to the window and looked out for a moment.

"What's wrong? Alexia?" Alfred's voice sounded again. This time, Alexia's lips were moving, but the voice that came out was Alfred's.

"Nothing, I probably misheard." Alexia switched back to her own voice, her tone flat.

The footsteps gradually faded away, and silence returned to the room.

Claire and Steve waited a few more minutes. After confirming there was no movement inside, they carefully pushed open the door. The bedroom was empty. A silver comb still lay on the vanity, and the quilt on the bed was neatly folded, as if no one had been there at all.

"Where are they?" Steve lowered his voice, his face full of confusion. "Someone was clearly talking just now."

Claire didn't answer. Her gaze fell on the nightstand, where a small white medicine bottle sat. She suddenly remembered the prison guard who had saved her in the jail.

"Steve, you stay here and keep looking for Alfred's trail. Stay safe." Claire picked up the medicine bottle and tucked it into her shirt. "I'm going back to the prison to give this to Rodriguez. I'll be back soon."

"No, it's too dangerous!" Steve immediately objected. "The island is crawling with zombies and Umbrella people now. It's too risky for you to go alone. I'll go with you."

"No need." Claire shook her head. "We need someone to stay here and keep an eye on Alfred. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Contact me by radio if anything happens."

Without waiting for Steve to say anything else, she turned and ran out of the bedroom, quickly heading downstairs and slipping out through the mansion's side door, disappearing into the mist.

After bidding farewell to Rodriguez, Claire hurried back to the mansion. She reached the main entrance and was about to push the door open when a steady set of footsteps suddenly sounded behind her.

The footsteps were neither fast nor slow, clicking clearly on the stone path, yet they carried a suffocating sense of pressure.

Claire turned around sharply, raising her gun to aim into the darkness.

A tall figure slowly emerged from the shadows. He wore a long black trench coat and sunglasses, his posture upright, exuding a cold killing intent.

"You must be Chris's sister, Claire Redfield." The man's voice was low and raspy, with a hint of amusement.

"Who are you?" Claire gripped her gun, her finger on the trigger.

The man took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of cold golden pupils. He looked at Claire, a cruel smile curling his lips: "I am your brother's captain, the ghost who was killed by him and resurrected."

"You're Wesker..." Claire's heart sank. She had heard this name countless times from Chris and Jill—the demon who betrayed S.T.A.R.S. and caused the deaths of many teammates.

"Indeed." Wesker slowly approached Claire. "I am also the one who attacked this island. I originally came to retrieve the t-veronica virus, but I didn't expect you to be imprisoned here as well."

He suddenly let out a low laugh: "But that's fine. With you here, Chris, who cares so much for his sister, will surely come to this island, won't he? It will be quite interesting then. I'll let him watch with his own eyes as the person he cares about most dies right in front of him."

"I don't know what happened, but you're clearly the one who betrayed S.T.A.R.S.!" Claire shouted angrily. "My brother was eliminating a menace for the people! You demon!"

Before she could finish, Wesker's figure suddenly blurred. Claire felt a flash before her eyes, and the gun in her hand was knocked away by a massive force, smashing into the wall and shattering. Then, a cold hand gripped her neck, lifting her off the ground.

"The one I hate most is Chris." Wesker's eyes were piercingly cold.

Claire's feet left the ground, her breathing became difficult, and her face turned bright red. She struggled desperately, pounding Wesker's arm with her fists, but it was like hitting steel—it didn't budge.

"Don't you dare think about hurting my brother!" Claire shouted with her last ounce of strength.

Wesker curled his lip and casually tossed her aside. Claire slammed heavily onto the ground, her back hitting the stone steps. The pain made her vision go dark, and she nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

Wesker slowly walked up to her and raised his foot, stomping down hard on her shoulder. The immense force left Claire unable to move, and her bones let out a creaking sound.

"If you die, Chris will be very sad, won't he?" Wesker's voice carried a cruel laugh. "Then I'll kill you first, and then wait for him to come to his death."

Just as he exerted force with his foot, intending to crush Claire's head, an afterimage struck toward his back like a bolt of lightning.

Wesker suddenly turned sideways, barely dodging the fatal blow. The silver-white Blade Claws grazed his trench coat, leaving three deep gashes on the wall.

Chloe landed steadily, shielding Claire. Her blood-red pupils stared intently at Wesker, and the Blade Claws at her fingertips glinted with a cold light.

Almost at the same time, Jill rushed out from the mansion's side door and fired three consecutive shots at Wesker. Wesker's figure flickered, and the bullets all hit empty air.

He turned around to look at Jill, a look of surprise crossing his face before it turned back into a playful smile. He put his sunglasses back on and brushed the dust off his clothes: "Oh, Jill, my good subordinate. Is this how you welcome my return?"

"You traitor, you really didn't die!" Jill shouted angrily, her gun aimed straight at Wesker. "You killed Richard, you killed Forest, you killed so many teammates! Today, I will avenge them!"

Wesker laughed. Just as he was about to say something, the communicator on his ear suddenly rang. He answered the call, listened for a few moments, and said flatly, "Hello, it's me. Understood, I'll be there in a moment."

After hanging up, he looked at his watch and then raised his head to look at the three people before him. Claire had been helped up by Chloe and was clutching her shoulder, staring at him angrily.

"Seven minutes," Wesker said suddenly.

"What?" Claire frowned, not understanding what he meant.

Wesker assumed an attack stance, his golden pupils flashing with a cold light behind his sunglasses: "I can spare seven minutes to play with you."

The mansion door creaked in the wind. Wesker's figure was like a god of death in the darkness, exuding a hopeless sense of pressure.

Chloe activated all her virus abilities, Jill held her gun ready, and Claire picked up a dagger from the ground.

A battle to the death, destined to be tragic, was on the verge of breaking out.