Chapter 72: Carnival's End

September 24, 1998, 8:17 AM, Jill Valentine's rental apartment in Raccoon City.

Morning light filtered through the gaps in the curtains with a hazy texture, falling onto her combat boots, which were stained with dried blood. Jill Valentine leaned against the bedside; various psychiatric medications were scattered across the nightstand.

She hadn't closed her eyes for a day. The tension from barely escaping the NEST alive the day before hadn't dissipated. Chloe's final mouthing of the words telling her to run, like a red-hot needle, pricked at her heart with every breath she took.

The safe in the corner of the desk was locked tight. Inside lay the hard drive with evidence of Umbrella Corporation's crimes, Chloe's complete experimental files, and that G-Virus prototype S01 Inhibitor that would never be used.

The Beretta 92F at her waist was loaded, and the remaining seven rounds were neatly arranged on the desktop, like a row of cold tombstones.

The television had been on all night, and the sound of the morning news drifted into the bedroom. The typically noisy commercials were suddenly interrupted by an emergency broadcast. Jill Valentine snapped back to reality, her gaze locked firmly on the screen.

On the screen, a news anchor in a suit wore a formulaic expression of seriousness, with a backdrop behind reading "Raccoon City Northwest Radioactive Contamination Emergency Announcement."

"At 6:00 AM this morning, the U.S. military and the State Environmental Protection Agency jointly issued a bulletin announcing the initiation of a special investigation into a suspected radioactive contamination source in the Arklay Mountains, northwest of Raccoon City. Relevant departments state that currently detected radiation levels are within a controllable range, and there are no reports of casualties at this time."

The anchor's tone was as steady as if he were reporting the weather, completely devoid of any sense of crisis. "To ensure the safety of citizens, the municipal government has initiated an evacuation plan for civilians in the northwest."

"At 7:42 AM today, the first rescue helicopter, fully loaded with citizens from the northern district, took off from the temporary helipad at the Raccoon City Zoo to transport citizens to an unfinished emergency quarantine zone on the outskirts of the city."

"The temporary shelter at the zoo is now open; citizens in the northern district may proceed there on their own to register for evacuation."

Jill Valentine's fist clenched tightly, the old wounds on her fingertips throbbing with pain.

Radioactive contamination?

The government was actually using such a ridiculous lie to cover up the truth that the entire city was being devoured by the T-Virus.

Those civilians crammed into the quarantine zone had no idea that there might already be infected people among them. That so-called emergency quarantine zone would soon turn into another living hell.

She picked up the walkie-talkie on the table and tuned it to the encrypted channel Marvin had left for her.

"Jill? Thank God, you're still alive."

The familiar voice of Marvin Branagh came from the other end of the line. His voice was thick with exhaustion, and the background was filled with intermittent radio static and hurried footsteps.

"I'm fine, Marvin." Jill Valentine spoke, only to find her throat extremely hoarse. "How is the police station now? That radioactive contamination they're talking about in the news is complete nonsense! It's the T-Virus. Umbrella Corporation's virus has completely leaked. What happened in the Arklay Mountains is repeating itself across the entire city."

Marvin fell silent for a few seconds on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. "I know. Since the latter half of last night, the police station's emergency lines haven't stopped ringing. It's all 'violent assaults' and 'biting incidents.' The injured sent to the hospital start attacking doctors and nurses like madmen the moment they wake up. We haven't been able to contact the two patrol cars we sent out."

He paused, his tone filled with helplessness. "But Jill, no one believes it. The mayor ran away last night, slipping away on an Umbrella Corporation helicopter without a trace. The entire decision-making layer of the municipal government is empty."

"Chief Irons has locked himself in his office, drinking himself into a stupor. Aside from telling us to 'control public opinion and not cause panic,' he hasn't issued a single order."

"The media has been well-fed by Umbrella Corporation; they are insisting it's an outbreak of a cannibalistic disease, along with that radioactive contamination nonsense. No one is mentioning the virus at all."

Jill Valentine leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes, a deep sense of powerlessness washing over her.

She had long known that Umbrella Corporation held absolute sway in Raccoon City, but she hadn't expected them to go this far. The entire city already had one foot in hell, yet the people in power and the media were still desperately weaving a false dream of peace for the public.

"What about the citizens? How many of them have evacuated?" Jill Valentine asked.

"Not many." Marvin's voice was full of bitterness. "The shelter at the zoo only opened this morning, and so far, only a few hundred residents living at the foot of the mountains have gone there."

"Most people think it's making a mountain out of a molehill. Either they think staying at home is safest—locking the doors and isolating themselves until the epidemic passes—or... or they simply aren't taking this seriously at all."

His tone suddenly became indignant. "The football game at Warren Stadium this afternoon, the season opener between the Raccoon City Sharks and the Odeck Thunder, is already sold out."

"Just a moment ago, citizens were calling the police station asking if the game would be canceled. The ticket office said it would proceed as scheduled; the municipal government hasn't even issued a notice of postponement."

"Right now, there are crowds of fans outside the police station holding signs protesting us for'spreading panic,' saying we shouldn't stop them from going to the game."

Jill Valentine's pupils contracted sharply. "Are they insane?! The hospitals are already packed with people who have been bitten. The virus is spreading rapidly through bodily fluids. Cramming tens of thousands of people into a closed stadium is just a giant petri dish! Once there is one infected person inside, the entire stadium will instantly spiral out of control!"

"I know! I told Irons three times to apply to cancel the game, and he just hung up on me!"

Marvin's voice was filled with suppressed rage. "Right now, less than a third of the police force is mobile; most have been sent to guard the municipal government and Umbrella Corporation's buildings. The rest can't even handle the calls from the neighborhoods, let alone stop those people from going to the game. Jill, I have a bad feeling about this. I'm afraid today is going to be a disaster."

Jill Valentine took a deep breath, suppressing the sob in her throat. She thought of Chloe, and how the little girl had told her countless times that Umbrella Corporation never cared about the lives of civilians; in their eyes, the entire Raccoon City was just their testing ground. Now, those words were slowly becoming reality.

"Marvin, listen to me." Jill Valentine's tone became firm again. "Immediately reinforce the doors and windows of the police station. Gather all the weapons, medicine, and food you can find. Lock the detention cells and turn them into a safe house."

"It won't be long before the police station becomes the only safe place in the entire city. Do not trust anyone from Umbrella Corporation, do not open the door for anyone of unknown identity, and protect yourself."

"I understand." Marvin replied. In the background, there were urgent shouts. He hurriedly added, "The police station has another call to respond to; I have to go. Jill, take care of yourself, and please be extremely careful. Call me anytime if you need anything."

The call ended, and silence returned to the room. Jill Valentine stood up, walked to the window, and lifted a corner of the curtain to look at the street below.

Completely different from the "calm and orderly" situation reported in the news, an atmosphere of unease was already permeating the streets in the early morning.

The pharmacy on the street corner had pulled down its rolling metal door, with a "Sold Out" sign posted at the entrance. A line of moderate length had formed in front of the supermarket, where people pushed shopping carts, frantically hoarding drinking water and canned food. Every few minutes, a police car would speed by with sirens wailing, racing toward the northwest of the city.

Yet, at the same time, fans wearing Sharks jerseys and carrying beer walked by in groups, laughing and joking, discussing the afternoon's game, completely ignoring the sirens on the road and the panic buying at the supermarket.

Occasionally, someone would mention the "radioactive contamination" from the news, only to be laughed off by a companion: "Don't listen to the media's nonsense. Last year they said there was radiation in the mountains too, and nothing happened."

Jill Valentine watched all this, feeling as though a thousand-pound stone was pressing on her heart. She knew the gates of hell had already opened, yet these people, who were about to be devoured, were still reveling for an insignificant game.

She put on her baseball cap, zipped up her jacket, hid her gun behind her waist, and gently opened the door to leave. She had to go confirm the situation—to see what the condition of the zoo shelter really was, and to confirm just how rotten this city had truly become.

The Raccoon City Zoo in the morning was long devoid of its usual laughter and joy. Yellow caution tape was strung up at the park entrance, and staff in hazmat suits stood sparsely at the gates, performing only the simplest temperature checks on citizens entering the park, without even the most basic disinfection.

The temporary shelter was set up in the park's open-air plaza. Hundreds of citizens were crammed into makeshift tents; the sounds of crying and arguing mixed together, and the air was filled with an unpleasant odor of sweat and instant noodles.

Jill Valentine stood in the shadows of the trees across from the park, watching everything, her heart sinking bit by bit.

There were no isolation zones, no epidemic prevention measures, and not even a few security personnel. Once an infected person slipped in, the entire shelter would be completely overrun in less than half a day.

A rescue helicopter was parked on the helipad in the center of the plaza, its propellers still slowly rotating. The uniformed crew members were leaning against the fuselage, smoking and chatting, completely lacking any sense of urgency for an emergency rescue.

She didn't linger, turning and walking away quickly. As she walked back along the street, Jack's Bar had already opened. The television inside was playing a pre-game show for the football match, and the commentator was laughing, saying, "Let us use a spectacular game to dispel these damn rumors of contamination!" The fans in the bar erupted into cheers.

When Jill Valentine returned to her rental apartment, it was already 1:00 PM. She locked the door, braced it again with the wardrobe, tuned the walkie-talkie to the RPD's public communication channel, and leaned against the desk, checking her weapons while listening to the intermittent dialogue on the channel.

At first, the channel was filled with routine dispatch conversations among officers, occasionally interspersed with a few complaints about the game.

At 2:00 PM, the game officially began. Some officers on the channel had even secretly tuned into the live broadcast of the match. The excited shouts of the commentators and the roaring, thunderous cheers of the fans at the stadium came through the walkie-talkie, sounding exceptionally jarring in the silent room.

Jill Valentine closed her eyes, leaning back against the chair, her mind filled with Chloe's face. She remembered the little girl telling her that on September 24, 1998, the carnival of Raccoon City would come to a complete end that afternoon.

At the time, she hadn't believed it. Now, she could only watch helplessly as the prophecy became reality.

At 2:17 PM, the live broadcast on the walkie-talkie was suddenly interrupted by a series of urgent shouts.

"This is the stadium patrol unit! Repeat! A large-scale assault incident is occurring inside Warren Stadium! Multiple spectators have suddenly gone mad and are attacking others! People are being bitten! Requesting backup! Repeat! Requesting emergency backup!"

The channel instantly exploded into chaos.

"What's the situation?! What happened at the stadium?!"

"Mad?! How many people?! How many injured at the scene?!"

"Dispatch! Send reinforcements there immediately! There are thirty thousand people in the stadium!"

Jill Valentine stood up abruptly, walked to the window, and looked toward the southwest of the city. That was the location of Warren Stadium. Even from over a dozen blocks away, she could faintly hear the chaotic screams and sirens coming from the scene.

The voices on the walkie-talkie became increasingly chaotic, mixed with gunfire, screams, and the frantic shouts of fans.

The patrol officer's voice was filled with a crying tone as he roared, "We can't control it! There are too many! People who are bitten stand up and bite others very quickly! We're out of ammo! Requesting heavy weapons support! Chief Irons! Please respond if you can hear me!"

Yet, there was never any response from Irons on the channel.

Jill Valentine gripped the gun in her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wanted to rush over, wanted to save those trapped in the stadium, but her gaze swept over the safe in the corner of the desk, and her steps halted instantly.

She couldn't go.

Chloe had traded her life for Jill Valentine's chance to survive, and for the evidence in her hands that could completely bring down Umbrella Corporation. If she rushed out now, got discovered by Umbrella Corporation's people, or was surrounded by the infected and died in the stadium, then Chloe's sacrifice would truly become meaningless.

She could only stand here, listening to the screams and desperate shouts on the walkie-talkie, watching helplessly as this city fell into hell, bit by bit.

At dusk, the horizon was dyed an eerie orange-red. Thick black smoke rose from the direction of Warren Stadium. The news channels finally stopped all entertainment programming and began rolling reports of a "large-scale violent riot at the stadium." The municipal government issued a city-wide curfew notice, requiring all citizens to stay at home immediately and not to go out.

But it was all too late.

Jill Valentine stood by the window, watching the street below, where shuffling figures had already begun to wander, emitting hoarse, low growls from their throats. The distant sirens, gunshots, and screams mixed together to become the final dirge for this city.

She slowly raised her hand, touching the cold glass window, and looked at the city shrouded in black smoke in the distance, whispering, "Chloe, you were right. This place was a hell from the very beginning."

The handgun at her waist was ice-cold and piercing, and the evidence in the safe weighed heavily like a thousand pounds. She knew that the carnival was over, and the endgame for Raccoon City had officially begun from this moment.