Staring in the mirror again, Henry still found himself having trouble accepting the current situation. He used the nearby tap, grabbed a handful of cold water, and splashed it onto his face.

Only then did everything finally sink in.

This was no longer the same world anymore, but very likely the world of Resident Evil.

It sounded crazy, and he wanted to deny it with every fibre of his being, yet.. Henry soon remembered the darkroom from before and all the strange things that followed.

Wasn't crazy the new norm these days?

If this really was the world of Resident Evil...

He could only cry bitter tears at his so-called new fate. It wouldn't be so bad if it were some easier world, such as Pokemon or Naruto, where things took on a much more spaced-out and leisurely pace. The latter had difficulties, sure, but it had nothing on Resident Evil when it came to the starting difficulty. This world basically just threw you into the deep end without a liferaft, and if you couldn't swim, well, you'd be eaten alive like noodles at a snack bar.

Needless to say, Henry didn't want to be eaten alive like noodles at a snack bar.

And all of this was initiated by a single damn email.

Watching the mirror as though it were some great adversary, Henry couldn't help but curse. "I bet you find this hilarious, right? Putting me into my favourite game, which just so happens to be a fucking nightmare to live in. Some ironic gameshow to enjoy... you sick fucking bastards." The words came out in a low snarl.

The more he thought about it, the more angry he became.

Someone had dug a deep pit and just waited for him to jump inside. All the questions, the challenging messages that preyed on his personality, everything a well-thought-out masquerade to lead him on.

Now, all Henry could do was sigh in resignation and focus on what was important.

Survival.

Splashing another handful of cold water onto his face, Henry racked his brain for solutions. He didn't have any combat training or anything else besides the gun at his hip to call upon, and even that was questionable, considering a total lack of firearms experience.

With such poor accuracy, could he even hit a zombie that was ten meters away from him?

Henry seriously doubted it.

Maybe I could train at the R.P.D. building?

He pondered briefly but soon realised that if the outbreak occurred at that point, wouldn't he be trapped?

Nemesis sure would love that. No way could a couple of doors or windows stop that thing. He was basically a mix between a giant bulldozer and a relentless bloodhound that always seemed to sniff out S.T.A.R.S. members.

Considering this, the chances of not being noticed would be minuscule at best.

Should... Should I just escape, then?

Drop everything and get the hell out of here?

It was a promising idea, at least at first. Unfortunately for Henry, there existed a significant obstacle in the form of a man, as well as the gigantic organisation hidden behind that person's back. Of course, these two were Albert Wesker and the Umbrella Corporation.

There was no way these two would let him escape, and the reason for that was simple...

I'm a member of S.T.A.R.S. And, very likely... already under surveillance.

He ran a hand through his short, messy hair, clenching his jaw at the implications.

Even if I did somehow manage to escape, they would relentlessly still hunt me down just to get rid of a loose end. Hell, I could end up getting turned into some kind of freaky science experiment. Those guys are that fucked up...

The longer Henry thought about it, the more he could imagine the scene of being tied down to some Umbrella hospital bed similar to a lab rat, with countless needles waiting to turn him into a human sieve. In comparison, going into the city and facing all of those dangers from the plot felt almost tame.

It wasn't as if he was totally against it. Throwing all caution to the wind and not thinking about anything else was in his nature, after all. But since that email, something inside him had already begun to shift, making him more cautious.

Being reckless here could easily lead to death.

"There must be something I can do... some way that increases my chances of survival. Maybe they gave me some ability-" He began mumbling to himself when all of a sudden...

*Ding*

A soft chime sounded from inside his mind, followed by a small circular dot that appeared out of nowhere. It sat in the bottom right corner of his vision, glowing an eye-catching red.

Henry blinked in confusion, not knowing what was going on.

What the fuck?

Surveying the bathroom with his eyebrows raised high, he tried to locate the source of this noise. Only to find nothing that stood out, apart from that red dot, still following along like some annoying new eye disease.

Out of instinct, Henry focused on the strange new intruder.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

When his eyes landed on the thing, it expanded outwards and turned into a dark grey transparent window filled with information. All of it just fixed right in front of his face. At the top of this new window were the big, bold words 'Ability Menu.'

Huh... isn't that the same one from earlier?

Henry began to compare the two in his mind, and indeed, it was almost an exact copy of the one he'd encountered in the dark room. The only differences were the text and layout, which seemed much more complete than before.

Obviously, this thing hadn't gone away for good but only temporarily disappeared until now.

It didn't take long for him to figure out why, either. All he needed to do was glance at the title at the top of the page: Ability Menu.

Henry had clearly said the word 'ability' not long ago.

For some strange reason, he felt an odd connection between himself and this menu, a mysterious way to pass intentions along with or without words. When he said something, it clearly read his intention and showed him exactly what he wanted to see. Similar to futuristic gaming systems in specific literature. Except this one was based in real life, or, well, a world that had recently turned into real life anyway.

A real-life game system...

The possibility of possessing such a thing made Henry excited. God knows he needed it.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Henry closed his eyes for a few seconds. Only after this did he begin to read the menu.

It only contained two little tabs, with many others greyed out, one of them being Active Abilities, which had the word none underneath. The other was Passive Abilities, but unlike before, this one had text below it.

Henry focused on the text, and a little explanation popped up like a tooltip in popular games: Gun Specialist: Due to you're natural affinity with firearms, you not only receive a 25% boost to proficiency points earned, but abilities related to your speciality are also 25% cheaper to activate.

"It really is some kind of game system!" Henry exclaimed as his thoughts travelled further.

If there's an ability page that opens when thinking about abilities, there must be others, right?

So, focusing his mind, he picked a standard game word to test the waters.

Status.

A short chime, exactly the same as the one from earlier, sounded inside his skull. Then, a menu that contained much more detail popped up, and the ability page faded into the background.

Seeing all this happen, Henry smiled in satisfaction, "Bingo!"

His eyes were soon glued to the page, taking it all in...

Name: Henry Oliver Ashcroft

Age: 24

Occupation: Former Special Air Service (S.A.S.) Operative, Current S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Member

Speciality: Gun Specialist

Condition: Healthy

Level: 0

Attributes

Strength: 1 [+]

Dexterity: 1 [+]

Agility: 1 [+]

Constitution: 1 [+]

Perception: 1 [+]

You have 3 unallocated attribute points available!

You have 1 unallocated perk point available!

Proficiencies

None (Locked)

Abilities

Active: None

Passives: Gun Specialist

The first thing that stood out was the name. Sure, Henry was still Henry, much to his relief. But then the middle and last names were different.

Henry Oliver Ashcroft?

He blinked. Once. Twice.

"Henry… Oliver… Ashcroft?" he repeated slowly as if trying to digest the words.

Doesn't that sound like someone who wears a monocle, sits in a gigantic drawing room and discusses local politics with other well-to-do nobles of the realm?

Yeah... it's... how can I say it?

A bit posh.

Shaking his head, Henry looked at the age next. Twenty-four years old. Not a bad age at all. In fact, this is seven years younger than his previous age.

It was definitely an unexpected benefit.

If he could stay alive, that is.

He moved on to his current and former occupations. The current one was obvious, but the fact that this guy served in the S.A.S. at such a young age impressed Henry, who had never joined the military himself.

Wouldn't that mean he's some kind of combat prodigy like Jill since she was a member of Delta Force?

Thinking about pretending to be such a person gave him a headache.

I guess I'll just have to wing it until I figure something out.

With a helpless shrug, Henry could only put the matter aside for now. He scrolled down and arrived at his speciality from earlier, confirming that there was nothing new. Then, onto something called condition.

This one didn't have any numerical value, only displaying the words Healthy.

When he looked a little closer, an animated image appeared, almost like a complete replica of the vital signs monitor used in the Resident Evil games. Of course, the current colour of the monitor turned out to be a healthy green.

I suppose it makes sense, considering what world this is.

Yet, what I dont understand is that level underneath it.

Where's the experience bar?

Henry searched around the menu for a while longer but still couldn't find the damn thing. So, he could only add it to the list of unknowns. Maybe it needed to be unlocked or something similar.

Either way, there wasn't anything that could be done right now.

What's below... oh, it's the attributes category.

Feeling a bit nostalgic, he scanned through all the well-known stats below the category. He noticed the usual strength, dexterity, agility, constitution and then a rare one called perception. Henry hadn't encountered this in many games before, but it wasn't all that surprising.

Especially if you consider the world of Resident Evil, where perception almost goes hand in hand. In this world, someone could be walking down the street without any signs of danger when a zombie, who suddenly hears them approaching, sneakily grabs their foot and pulls them down. The next second, this zombie has already taken a chunk out of their leg with its rotten teeth.

Of course, this wouldn't be a problem if it was still just a game. The person involved, maybe Jill, Claire or Leon, could chew on some herbs and like magic, they're healed and not infected with the T-virus. But in the real world, especially if it's Resident Evil...

That's basically a death sentence.

Henry gulped as if he had a fishbone trapped in his throat. Noticing how low all of his stats were, he quickly pumped the first point into perception using the arrow.

It was still too damn low, but what could be done?

With only two more left, investing any further would be stupid. Henry knew that this stat without agility would be much less effective. The reason was pretty simple as well: Noticing danger and reacting to it were two completely separate things!

And because of this, he invested in agility to balance things out not long after.

Only a single point remained now.

Henry took his time to consider each one, going through different scenarios in his head. But very quickly, it turned into a two-horse race between dexterity and constitution.

The first one, dexterity, improved the body's flexibility, allowing him to become more flexible and less stiff, which is important with any kind of weapon handling and dodging. Then there's constitution, which he figured must increase stamina and toughness. With a one in this stat, sustained activity might be impossible.

Both of them were vital. However, Henry had to make the choice, and that choice turned out to be dexterity.

Why?

He began to imagine himself fumbling with a gun in some kind of life-or-death encounter. The scene was similar to some cheesy action movie—gun slipping from his hand, clattering to the ground, and then a huge zombie horde closed in.

"I could rest more if my constitution is low, but without dexterity, I'd be that guy in all those cheap movies that dies because he couldn't hold a damn gun. Death by butterfingers."

No fucking way am I going down like that.

Shaking his head, Henry tried to clear away the image from his mind. He willed the last point into dexterity without a moment's notice.

Better safe than... undead.