Early on the morning of July 9th, Noah showed up at the gun shop, looking sharp.
At Boss Kendo's insistence, he had ditched his usual cargo pants and combat boots for a black suit and dress shoes. He stood there, posture straight.
The suit belonged to Kendo—from his younger, slimmer days, of course.
When Noah took the ticket from Kendo last night, he had tried to bail, using "watching the shop" as an excuse.
But Kendo shot that down instantly. Noah couldn't even identify half the guns yet; leaving him there was no different from having a doorman.
It was basically closing up shop anyway.
Plus, if a customer asked technical questions and Noah stood there talking nonsense, it would make the shop look unprofessional.
So, that excuse was a no-go.
Noah was quick on his feet, though. Seeing that fail, he claimed he didn't have any formal wear, hoping to snag a day off.
But Kendo had already secured the ticket, and Emma specifically wanted Noah to come along—whether to tell her stories on the road or keep her company if she got bored.
Since his daughter asked, she had her reasons.
So Kendo generously dug out a suit from his youth, handed it to Noah, and told him to wear it tomorrow.
Or else he was fired.
Noah hadn't expected this.
Even in the U.S., he couldn't escape the toxic culture of "mandatory corporate fun."
With his paycheck held hostage, Noah's resistance crumbled instantly.
He could only comfort himself with the thought that he'd see Jill again—a good chance to build rapport—and see the Mayor's daughter, Katherine, in person to check if she lived up to the hype. Meanwhile, he mentally prepared contingency plans for any safety incidents.
Between secret excitement and worrying about escape routes, Noah didn't fall asleep until late into the night.
As for his contingency plan? It wasn't much of a plan.
The conclusion was basically: play it by ear, and if things go south, run like hell.
When in doubt, get the hell out.
Thinking about this, the three of them piled into Kendo's car and set off for the banquet in the outskirts.
Noah looked at the ticket in his hand and asked Kendo, "A banquet hosted by the Mayor's daughter, attended by high society... shouldn't we need a formal invitation? Getting in with just this generic ticket seems a bit... casual, doesn't it?"
Thinking about all the movies and shows he'd seen, this wasn't a concert or a public rally. A simple admission ticket seemed a bit low-rent.
"Haha, I was curious too, so I asked Jill yesterday."
"What did she say?" Noah asked.
"She said the whole event is meant to calm the public. After discussing it with Umbrella, they decided to make it a free lottery system to get regular citizens involved."
Kendo explained as he turned on the car radio.
The forecast was playing: clear skies for miles. Perfect for outdoor activities.
It felt like Umbrella had scripted the weather report too, just to ease people's fears.
Noah nodded thoughtfully. He truly admired Umbrella's influence over this city now. They could throw a banquet whenever they wanted, and even a nobody like him could get in.
To put it bluntly, it was just a free party for the public.
The two in the front chatted back and forth, while Emma sat in the back, watching with interest as the rows of gray buildings gave way to lush, green forests rushing toward them.
Seeing that Kendo was starting to enjoy the radio music, Noah looked down at the address printed on the back of the ticket again.
Next to the location, the word "Mansion" made Noah uneasy. It had been bothering him since last night.
He had mentioned it yesterday, but Kendo was actually excited. He even wanted to take the opportunity to visit the nearby mansion because its architect was the famous George Trevor.
Noah had managed to talk him out of it.
He used Emma as the excuse. He told Kendo that Emma was so cute, if he left her alone to go sightseeing, some rich kid at the party might try to hit on her, or worse, try to sweep her off her feet before Kendo got back.
That worked... until Kendo suggested taking Emma with him.
Noah realized then how dangerous the situation was. If Kendo actually took Emma to the Spencer Mansion...
Although he was anxious, he really had to take it one step at a time.
If problems arose, he could only hope that the lethal goddess Jill Valentine could turn the tide.
"Welcome to the Suburban Banquet."
Kendo, Emma, and Noah showed their tickets one by one and stepped into the venue. It wasn't far from the Mansion area, but there were no ominous landmarks here—just a grand, open party space.
There were already quite a few people there. Adults and children.
The adults were sipping cocktails and chatting.
The kids were playing on specially built playground equipment, while others were at the buffet area, happily devouring sweets.
Past the relaxation area was a small stage where a rock singer was jumping around, performing energetically. A crowd of young men and women had gathered below, swaying to the rhythm.
Looking further ahead, Noah instantly spotted Katherine Warren in the crowd.
She was dressed in a flowing white gown, standing tall and elegant, chatting warmly with the guests. Not far from her stood Jill, vigilant in her S.T.A.R.S. uniform, wearing a beret and a radio headset, scanning the surroundings.
Behind them was a temporary Western-style structure.
Judging by the size, Noah knew this wasn't the infamous Mansion.
Noah followed Kendo. Seeing Kendo grab a cocktail and start drinking happily, and Emma running off to listen to the music from a distance, Noah started scanning the crowd himself.
Given the scale of this banquet, some heavyweights must be here. Those people might become his lifelines.
Thinking about the Raccoon City roster... the ones with critical plot armor, extraordinary experience, and most importantly, the ability to survive multiple games, were the S.T.A.R.S. members.
His primary target was to find the elites: Chris, Barry.
If he couldn't find them, he'd settle for Enrico or Brad. At least one was the Vice Captain, and the other was a pilot. They both survived until the main events, so they shouldn't be in danger at a party like this.
Worst case scenario, finding the beloved R.P.D. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh would be great too.
After all, Marvin was a real cop. A good cop.