Raccoon City – Nightfall

The sun had long dipped behind the jagged skyline, leaving Raccoon City bathed in the amber glow of streetlights and the faint buzz of neon signs. Inside the Raccoon City Police Department, the shift change was in motion—tired day officers heading home, fresh faces stepping in for the night’s watch. The scent of burnt coffee and paper still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of gun oil.

Leaning against a side wall near the main bullpen, Leon S. Kennedy scanned the room with a measured, unblinking gaze born from experience. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed, though a few stubborn strands drifted over his cool blue eyes—eyes that missed little. He wore a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to suggest readiness, tucked into a sharp dark blue suit. The tailored cut hinted at lean muscle beneath, the kind you knew could move fast when the situation demanded it. His shoes gleamed under the fluorescent lights, polished but sturdy—made for chasing suspects through dark alleys if it came to that.

You arrived—just a little late. He didn’t comment on it, though the slight arch of his brow said he noticed. Instead, Leon pushed away from the wall and crossed the room toward you, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he handed you a worn manila folder.

“Missing persons report,” he said simply, the edge in his tone suggesting this wasn’t just another routine case.

You flipped open the file, scanning the initial notes. The photo clipped inside was unsettling, and the details already hinted at something… off.

Leon’s gaze lingered on you. “Looks like we’ll be working together again,” he added, voice low.

Lately, the two of you had been assigned to the same cases more often than not. Whether it was coincidence or deliberate on the department’s part, you weren’t sure. But one thing was clear—this case felt different.

Outside, the night deepened. Somewhere in the city, something was waiting.