He had no choice but to bite the bullet and start preparing.
That woman on the TV... she looked so incredibly familiar. Where have I seen her? Think, damn it, think!
Noah hadn't even fully recovered from his conversation with the mysterious voice—he hadn't even had the time to properly bitch about why his "superpower" was nothing more than being a walking, talking multilingual dictionary.
The voice that had brought him here had vanished of its own accord. He was now completely isolated, stuck alone in a city riddled with hidden dangers, with no one left to answer his prayers. Basically, aside from telling him he needed to "survive," she hadn't said jack shit.
Noah took a deep breath and began to painstakingly analyze every single sentence the female voice had uttered, word by word. After turning it over in his mind for a while, Noah finally found a breakthrough.
When he had mentioned packing his bags and moving away, the mysterious voice had urgently interjected with a "No." She didn't explain why, just that he couldn't. That meant one of two things: either leaving Raccoon City violated some cosmic rule that would lead to a catastrophic outcome, or her subconscious refusal wasn't an absolute "impossible," but rather a desperate desire to keep him here on the board.
Since it was a 50/50 toss-up, it was worth testing eventually. But first, he had to survive the "Hell Mode" that was Raccoon City. He could plan the escape later.
Once he eventually managed to get out of Raccoon City, the absolute minimum requirement for his future would be learning how to use firearms and mastering close-quarters combat. Otherwise, he'd never even get the chance to meet those lethal heroines—the only reason he even wanted to stay in this world. Without those skills, he'd just end up as zombie chow, dead meat before the opening credits even finished rolling.
With that in mind, Noah started rummaging through the small bachelor apartment, hoping to find something—anything—of value.
But there wasn't a single cent to be found. Not in the drawers, not under the old newspapers, not behind the bulky CRT TV, nor between the pages of the books. Even the trash can was spotless. You could say no one lived here, yet the place was full of the mundane signs of daily life. But if you said someone did live here... who the hell doesn't keep a single penny in their house?
"Land of the Free, home of the broke. Whatever," Noah muttered.
Noah looked around helplessly. With no other options, he relied on the knowledge he'd gleaned from years of watching American TV shows and turned his attention back to the newspapers. If he remembered correctly, newspapers from this era should be a goldmine of useful information. Especially in a small, isolated place like Raccoon City.
Local papers didn't just print national news; they dedicated a massive amount of space to local happenings. Things like happy announcements, obituaries... and help-wanted ads.
Right. Job listings. As long as he found a job, combined with his now-fluent English and twenty-plus years of "future" work experience, he could surely scrape together enough money to travel within half a month. At the very least, he could earn enough for a bus fare out of town, right?
Noah couldn't help but sigh. It seemed his seemingly useless language skill was actually good for something after all. If he had known, he would have pressed that inexplicable voice harder for something better—something with more oomph.
But the urgent task now was to scan the paper for a job that suited him—something that would help him grow quickly and stack some cash in the short term. Come to think of it, if he could use this half-month in Raccoon City to cross paths with the main characters, or even make them remember him, it would definitely give him a head start in the Resident Evil 4 era and future storylines.
That way, pushing the plot forward and romancing the ladies should be relatively faster. Noah paused, momentarily impressing himself with his own long-term strategic planning. Here he was in 1998, already considering the events of 2004.
This six-year plan was solid as a rock.
Stop, stop. No more getting high on my own schemes. The key right now is finding a job! Noah shook off his self-congratulatory daze and began counting off the classified ads one by one.
"Wanted: Hospital Nurse. Gender open. Main duties involve caring for victims of recent violent incidents."
Recent violent incidents? He vaguely remembered that those "incidents" were all zombie-related. So, this job basically meant taking care of citizens who were already infected with the T-Virus and could turn at any second? "Forget it. That's a suicide mission. Pass."
"Umbrella Corporation Urgent Hire: Testing Grounds Cleaning Staff. Gender open, age open. Main duties: Cleaning experimental sites at the mansion in the outskirts. 12-hour shifts."
Twelve-hour shifts? Yeah, right. The mansion—the Spencer Mansion—was a hellhole filled with traps and Bio-Organic Weapons. If he took that job, he'd be B.O.W. fodder by his second day. He wouldn't take that gig if they held a gun to his head.
He looked again. There had to be something reliable.
"Suburban Gas Station Clerk. Responsibilities: Sales and cashier duties. Requires night shifts. Due to the remote location, male applicants preferred."
Suburban gas station... That sounded familiar. Was that the Mizoil station where Leon and Claire first met in Resident Evil 2? Thinking about the game plot, it didn't explicitly show the staff turning into zombies—well, not all of them immediately. Considering he might meet the protagonists there, maybe it was worth seeking wealth in the face of danger?
Noah barely finished the thought before he hastily shot it down. No, no. Whether in the original or the Remake, the moment those two met, the station was swarming with zombies. They barely escaped in a cop car, scrambling for their lives back to Raccoon City. Thinking it through, the staff at that gas station were definitely doomed.
Keep looking. There has to be a decent job somewhere.
Noah was starting to feel a bit desperate. He didn't know if God was playing a joke on him or if this was just the harsh reality of the city, but every job he saw was either a death sentence or a fast track to the grave. It seemed impossible to choose. After all, the main objective was staying alive.
"Hiring at Kendo Gun Shop! You don't need to know everything about guns, you don't need to be a sharpshooter, and you certainly don't need to stand there as a target! Hahaha. You don't want to lose a duel, right? Then come to Kendo's and order a sidearm made just for you! This might look like an ad, but I actually need a quick-witted, fit young lad to handle customer orders. Most importantly, you must get along well with my daughter. She is my most precious treasure."
Kendo Gun Shop? Robert Kendo?
Wasn't that the gun shop owner who was friends with Jill Valentine and Barry Burton?
This guy appeared in Resident Evil 2 and had a cameo in the Resident Evil 3 storyline. Noah clearly remembered he had made a custom handgun for Jill—the Samurai Edge—though he never got the chance to give it to her in time. In the original RE2, the gun shop owner was basically an NPC with no plot armor. But the Remake had significantly fleshed out his identity.
Tragically, by the time he appeared in the Remake, Kendo's daughter, Emma, was already infected and on the verge of turning. Robert Kendo chose to stay and die with his daughter in the back room of the shop rather than escape.
Sigh. Looks like another classic devoted father. Thinking about it... for Kendo to hold his gun on Leon and Ada, yet still trade his own survival for his fatherly love while dragging his dying body... the man was practically a saint.
Damn Umbrella and their T-Virus. Not only did they destroy a cute little girl, but they also turned the presumably boisterous Kendo into a figure of bitter hatred and despair from the moment he appeared on screen. It just showed how hopeless and helpless ordinary people were in a world saturated with this virus.
"Fuck it. This is the one."
Whether or not he could use this chance to contact the protagonists was secondary. If he could just help that cute daughter escape this crisis, that would be a serious accumulation of good karma.
He'd go there tomorrow to apply. Work, then run!
He'd aim for a scenario where the employee runs off with the daughter, and the shopkeeper dad chases after them to save her. Killing two birds with one stone like that... just thinking about it was thrilling. And kind of fun.