"Whoa, whoa! Calm down! We're having a civil conversation here, aren't we? Let's not do anything rash!"
The female voice was bordering on panic now, desperately trying to talk Noah down. She had no way of knowing if this man was truly unstable enough to follow through. To her, he looked like a perfectly healthy adult male—why on earth would he choose suicide just because of some looming, unknown danger?
Who in their right mind would do that? Unless, of course, the guy was mentally ill.
"Then you tell me," Noah countered, throwing the ball back into her court. It was a classic negotiation tactic: force the other party to name their price first, then use that as a baseline for a counter-offer. It was far safer than laying his own demands on the table immediately.
If his demands were too steep and got rejected outright, he'd be backed into a corner—stuck between actually slitting his throat or looking like a bluffing idiot. In that scenario, she would hold all the leverage, and he'd be forced to dance to her tune.
"I really wanted to gift you some unparalleled, world-dominating abilities—the kind that would let you conquer the Resident Evil universe with ease—but..."
"No 'buts.' I think 'unparalleled, world-dominating abilities' sounds like a fantastic start!" Noah interjected, seizing the initiative the moment he heard those words.
"The problem is... if I give you powers that are too unique, you will inevitably disrupt the established timeline. The future would deviate so much that many characters who are supposed to exist would simply vanish. Are you willing to accept that price?"
"Wait, what? There's a rule like that?"
"Of course! Think about it; you should have figured that out by now!"
"Cut the crap," Noah snapped. "Give me a concrete example."
"Fine. Take Ada Wong, for instance."
"Don't you dare use my goddess as an example! We're going to have a very serious talk about the female characters later!"
"Heh... so there are things in this world you're attached to, after all." The female voice chuckled before getting back on track. "Alright, what about Leon S. Kennedy?"
"Leon? Okay, that works." Hearing that name, Noah began to mentally sift through everything he knew about the man. Loyal, naturally gifted, a notorious destroyer of vehicles, and an absolute lady-killer.
Damn, Noah thought, Leon is probably my biggest competition. He leaned in, listening intently.
"If Leon never makes it to Raccoon City, or if he fails to escape and never becomes a government agent to protect Sherry Birkin, then the events of Resident Evil 4 can never happen. You would be forced to navigate that era in a state of complete ignorance."
"Then I just won't get involved in the RE4 storyline. Simple as that," Noah said dismissively. He had expected something more catastrophic. If the story moved beyond his knowledge, so be it. As long as he stayed safe, what did it matter?
"If a biohazard specialist like Leon doesn't emerge," the voice continued, "then Ashley Graham might very well bring the Las Plagas parasite back to the U.S. mainland, triggering a global extinction event."
"I hear you, but honestly? That still doesn't seem like a problem for an ordinary guy like me."
"Are you dense? If you don't follow the story, you can't romance Ashley!"
"Wait... what?" Noah paused. He hadn't looked at it from that angle. It actually made sense; if he never crossed paths with her, how could he possibly win the heart of the President's daughter?
But then he reconsidered. Ashley... that constant, shrieking burden from the original game? Maybe he was better off without her.
"You're thinking that missing out on a spoiled princess like Ashley isn't a big deal, right?" The female voice seemed to read his mind with terrifying accuracy. "But remember: the Remake version isn't just 'Ashley.' It's the sensible, charming, pantyhose-wearing Ashley from the Remake."
"..."
Noah went silent. How could he have forgotten? The Remake's Ashley was a dream—gentle, considerate, and actually helpful. She was a complete transformation from the original.
Slurp.
Noah couldn't help but salivate at the thought.
"Okay, okay... point taken." Noah used his free hand—the one not holding the knife—to wipe the perverted drool from his chin, though he didn't drop his guard. "But if I participate in these events now, I'm still going to change the story to some degree, aren't I?"
"That depends entirely on your own skills."
Pfft. Noah nearly choked. So the future was still a giant question mark? The only thing guaranteed was that the women of his dreams could appear. That was it.
"Honestly, look at you. Here's another hint: this world isn't as rigid as you think. But if you want to survive using your meta-knowledge of the games, you'll need to use your brain!"
Noah fell into deep thought. 'Not as rigid' meant he had significant freedom of movement. 'Surviving via memory' meant that if he wanted the iconic characters to show up, he shouldn't interfere with the major historical "anchors."
Leon becoming an agent? Chris joining the BSAA? Wesker's rise as the mastermind? If he kept those pillars intact, the world would remain recognizable.
"Well? Is your heart racing? Are you excited yet?"
Doesn't this mean I actually have a shot with them? Noah's mind raced. It was a scenario he had fantasized about a thousand times but never dared to imagine as a reality. A smirk slowly spread across his face—the kind of wicked grin belonging to a scoundrel, not a hero.
"Put it that way... and I suppose it's not impossible." Noah's eyes gleamed with a mix of greed and lust, his face flushing. He was likely already picturing a dozen different "scenarios."
"Right? I knew the veteran Resident Evil player I chose wouldn't pass up the chance to experience this world firsthand!"
"Wait... what did you just say? 'The veteran player you chose'?" Noah immediately caught the slip of the tongue. Suddenly, he felt less like a protagonist and more like a puppet on a string.
"Hahaha! I didn't say anything!" The female voice sounded awkward, brazenly pivoting as if he hadn't heard her.
"No, no. Something feels very wrong here." His foolish grin vanished, and Noah pressed the blade against his neck once more. "I'm just a guy. I don't know how to fight. I can't survive in a place like this. Everything you've said is useless without a foundation!"
"Ugh, fine! What do you want?"
"At the very least, give me some superpowers!"
"Fine! No problem! I hereby grant you the superpower to master every language in the world!"
"Wait, that's not what I—!"
Before he could finish, a jolt of energy surged through his body—first a shock, then a warm, rushing current through his veins. Noah realized he'd been played and started cursing at the ceiling. What kind of garbage "superpower" was that? It just meant he could read the local news and talk to people. He could have learned that himself with enough time!
"Well, that's all for now! Toodles! Bye-bye~!"
"Dammit! Are you kidding me?! Get back here!" Noah screamed at the top of his lungs, but there was no reply. The voice had vanished as if she had never existed.
In that moment, the bulky, old-fashioned CRT TV in the corner flickered to life on its own. It was broadcasting the local news from Raccoon City.
As if to test his new "gift," Noah focused all his attention on the audio. To his shock, the English broadcast was crystal clear. He didn't have to translate it in his head; he understood the nuances and meaning instantly, as if it were his mother tongue.
On the screen, a young woman was being interviewed. She had fair skin, a refined nose, and deep-set eyes, her hair styled in low twin-tails. Dressed in an elegant white gown, she exuded an air of upper-class sophistication.
"As the daughter of Mayor Michael Warren," the reporter asked, "what are your thoughts on your father's recent statement that the outskirts are perfectly safe and that citizens should feel free to visit?"
"Whether as a student or a citizen of Raccoon City, I love this vibrant community dearly," she replied gracefully. "It is true we experienced some violent incidents recently, but thanks to the tireless efforts of Chief Brian Irons, peace and harmony have returned. To dispel any lingering doubts, I will be hosting a summer picnic in the outskirts in one week. I want to prove that the violence is behind us. Raccoon City's future is safe and bright!"