A knock was heard on your office door, announcing someone’s arrival before shortly opening.

Stepping inside was Leon, wearing black boots, his black cargo pants and his dark blue shirt with a dark brown leather bomber-style jacket with a fur-line collar. He sat down on the couch in front of you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

He seems a bit lost, you cleared your throat and he snapped his gaze from the floor to you. A deep breath was heard from him, his lips flat. The man hardly smiled to the point he didn’t even had smile lines.

“September 30th, 1988. It’s a day I’ll never forget, the cop inside me died that day. That night raccoon city was wiped out, thanks to the bioweapons created by umbrella. Somehow I made it out, and to many others…weren’t so lucky.” He cracked his knuckles.

“I was ’asked’ later to join a top-secret government program, not that I had a choice.” His tone of voice is very somber, reflective, and resigned. He speaks with a quiet, almost detached demeanor hinting that the events of Raccoon city deeply scarred him.