"A token of love?" Sheva teased.
"Haha, if you say so, then it is. I don't mind at all. You look better—and hotter—with glasses on!" Eddie winked.
Sheva smiled faintly. "Then I'll wear them next time, just to ease the strain from the screen."
Samantha curled her lip. "You seriously want to be my aunt? Should I start guarding my man from my bestie?"
"I never said that." Sheva sounded flustered.
Samantha burst out laughing. "Kidding! If you've got the skills, I wouldn't mind. Right, Daddy?"
Eddie gave a firm nod. "Hey, as long as you're happy."
"You're the happy one—I can already picture your grin!" Samantha chirped, every inch the fresh-faced darling.
The group landed near the Volcano. The moment they stepped off, Eddie spotted two strapping black men on the slope watching them. When he looked up they spun away and hurried off.
With a flick of his hand an invisible, unique sigil locked onto one of the men.
Sheva had noticed as well. "Someone's tailing us?" She glanced around but found nothing useful.
"They were; they've left. Is this the area where people vanished? If so, I've a pretty good guess why." Eddie's cold smile said the place wasn't as simple as rumor claimed.
"Is it dangerous? Plenty have gone missing—locals and tourists alike. Even when reported, the area can't spare anyone to investigate; it's too poor to field a proper agent."
"Those guys looked parasitized by Las Plagas. Forget them—let's move. Finding that dead Volcano matters more." Eddie had no wish to meddle; if someone wanted Africa, they could have it.
The team started hiking upslope while the pilot flew the chopper back to base.
Sheva toyed with her Necklace; a transparent helmet snapped into place around her head like an advanced Gas-Mask, breathable and unobtrusive. "Handy little thing—did you invent it?"
Eddie shook his head. "My wife, Alexia, came up with it."
A stand-up guy, Eddie never stole credit; if his wife was brilliant, he saw no shame in saying so.
"Alexia… the name rings a bell." Sheva's curious eyes sparkled; she didn't seem bothered that he was married.
In Africa, money buys everything—three palaces and seventy-two concubines, if you can pay.
Even a highly educated woman like Sheva took it in stride; the rule applies to women just as much as men.
"Edward Ashford, Umbrella's founder, headed the Ashford Family; his granddaughter ran the Antarctic Research Facility—Alexia. I rescued her down south, and she became my wife."
"You've quite the talent—your team's stacked with gorgeous, capable women." Sheva praised, perhaps polishing her own halo too.
With the Magnetic Field's help Sheva crossed several volcanoes without the slightest fatigue, surprising herself.
Yet nothing noteworthy turned up; could her stamina really have improved this much?
Eddie kept scanning the terrain while Samantha worked a Detector; she knew what her father sought—she'd trained on Goddess Island.
Curious about Eddie's crew, Sheva asked no questions. A smart woman knows that to win a man you need more than looks—and a little goodwill goes a long way.
A woman who minds her own business is always more attractive.
Further off, several local Natives tailed them furtively; their dark skin melted into the landscape—easy to miss unless you looked hard. Maybe that's racial advantage.
To Eddie, though, the Magnetic Fields around those Natives blazed like signal flares—impossible to overlook.
Instead of driving the Natives away, Eddie wanted whoever was behind them to show themselves. If they didn't give him an explanation, he'd deliver one himself.
"Still no good—the volcanoes around here are too unstable; they could blow at any moment. Let's move to the next zone." Samantha brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and snorted.
Chapter 577: Pretty Lady, Want Immortality?
The Black Natives kept following. The Las Plagas parasite seemed to have boosted their stamina; they crossed ridges without a single gasp.
The Las Plagas strain had clearly been upgraded, eliminating the flaws of Type-3. From the outside they looked perfectly normal—ideal for staying hidden.
Eddie's group pressed on toward the uninhabited zone. No villagers lived here anymore; the environment was so harsh that even the Black Brothers couldn't survive.
The air reeked of decaying dust, a mix of rotting carcasses and thick sulfur—utterly bizarre.
Luckily, Alexia's Purification Helmets let them breathe without trouble.
"Think there's a monster down there?" Eddie pointed toward the base of the Volcano.
Sheva laughed. "Monsters aren't that common. No bioweapon could survive in Magma
Any sane person would agree—flesh and blood can't live in lava. There's no air; breathing would be impossible.
Surviving such extremes was the very problem Carla was tackling. Did these half-baked researchers really think they could cook up such a creature?
It wasn't impossible—just pointless. Who would buy it? Without profit, would they fund it with love like some web-novel author?
Back in the village, the suit-clad man frowned at the report and rang his superior. "Sir, we've spotted Eddie Cai in Test Zone One. He seems to be searching for something."
At the Indian Ocean offshore rig, Daniel—now overseeing Carla's duties—watched the viral experiment without expression. "Keep watching. Report the instant they find anything."
Daniel knew Eddie's strength, yet he couldn't tell which virus the man had used for enhancement. One thing was certain: Eddie had mastered a method.
In Daniel's view the method couldn't be replicated. Even if Eddie's three bodyguards were virus-boosted, so what? There were five or six Ivan-type Tyrants—could they be mass-produced? No.
Simmons had left everything here to Daniel while he dealt with the constant terror attacks in the Federation cities and the international backlash—none of it boded well for the Western Federation.
No one knew Daniel despised the Western Federation. A descendant of Natives Americans, his ancestors had migrated from the Federation to Mexico, then back again.
Life had been sunless, crushed under the Federation's heel. In this capitalist world, the poor could only be the rich's dogs—no way out.
He swore he would make the Western Federation's top brass pay dearly.
But the time to strike hadn't come; he needed more.
The Pupa Virus test failed again, leaving Daniel irritated.
A familiar ringtone sounded; Daniel returned to his quarters and opened the laptop.
Several faces popped up, some old acquaintances: Nikolai, Glenn—ruthless rebels or notorious terrorists.
An Umbrella logo glowed on the screen—Neo-Umbrella, originally founded by Carla.
After Carla went straight, the group had withered until Nikolai took over and started recruiting.
With Upgraded Subordinate Plaga, attracting new blood wasn't hard.
Against a Regular Army, bioweapons meant little; even a Talos Tyrant could only fight a war of attrition from cover. On open ground, flesh couldn't beat tanks backed by fighter jets.
For terrorists, however, bioweapons were cheap and perfect.