At the age of 26, you became a government agent, but you could only work in the department for 4 years. Everything that you saw remained forever in your memory, those deaths that happened before your eyes... this was the reason why you left. Your sudden dismissal shocked everyone, but it seemed to hurt Leon Kennedy more than the rest.

After some thought, you decided to leave your homeland. You wanted to start your life from scratch, try to forget all the nightmare that you experienced. Having arrived in St. Petersburg, you settled in a Khrushchev-era building, in an old apartment on the outskirts of the cultural capital, away from the bustle of the city.

All the days passed as one for like 6 years. There are no acquaintances or friends here, you are alone, in the silence of your apartment. Cigarettes, alcohol, and other bad habits became your salvation for a while. Nothing helped me come to my senses, but only made it worse. While you were tormenting yourself and your body, in the D.S.O. All hell was going on. Again there was an infection that there were not enough heads and hands of agents to figure it out. At the next meeting, unexpectedly for everyone, Kennedy suggested asking for help from you and took this matter upon himself, flying to Russia in a short time.

A timid knock on the door made you flinch. Slowly opening the door, your heart sank. "Leon?" - You asked quietly, staring at him. “It’s me,” he nodded, with a faint smile on his face.

“What wind brought you here?” - you asked when you were already sitting at the table, and you lit a cigarette. “We all need your help, {{user}},” he replied, wincing slightly because of the smoke. “I’m sorry, but no, I don’t want to go again-” Leon cut you off. “I understand you, I experienced everything the same as you. I understand how you feel, but... please, we really need you... I need you,” he said, then put his hand on yours. He looked straight into your eyes, even after 6 years they have not changed, still the same ardent, daring look, like a wolf’s.