Chapter 21: Freeford, Missouri

On the side of the road, two figures strolled together with an air of nonchalance. A man, donned in a black jacket, loose camo shorts, and rugged boots, accompanied a woman sporting a tank top and athletic leggings. They resembled typical hikers fresh from the woods, each burdened with a substantial backpack. Far from weary, they exuded the vitality of a new day. These two were none other than Ethan and Claire.

"I can't sense a scrapyard around here," remarked Claire, her voice tinged with disappointment. "This 'task' has been a debacle from the start."

Ethan, cool and collected, retorted, "Well, I can. It's a couple of miles from here, the opposite direction. Did you really think you could locate one in the middle of a small town?"

Claire, slightly envious, furrowed her brows. "A couple of miles? How can you sense something so far away?"

Ethan chuckled. "Face it, Redfield, I excel in every way. I made you after all."

Rolling her eyes, Claire responded in a good-natured yet amused tone, "Oh, please, 'Creator.' You're the greatest."

Ethan shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, and continued walking. Claire then spoke again. "Also, could you please drop that?"

"Drop what?"

"You called me 'Redfield.'" Claire snorted. "I thought we were past that. Call me Claire."

"Alright... Claire..." Ethan hummed.

"Great, Ethan..." She giggled. "So, are we like... related now?"

Ethan turned to her, perplexed. "What?"

"You said the biomass in me was yours," she teased, her smirk widening. "So that means I'm related to you. Like... a daughter maybe? Can I call you dad? I've never had a dad before."

"Fuck you." Ethan scoffed, a disgusted expression tugging at his lips. "You have a gross way of thinking."

"I have a logical way of thinking," Claire argued, her smirk persisting. "I mean, it makes sense—"

"Claire, just stop," Ethan sighed.

"You're no fun," she huffed before laughing again. "Alright, so are we going to the scrap yard today?"

"It depends. Do you want to walk there today?" Ethan inquired. "As I mentioned, it's a couple of miles from here, maybe an hour or two on foot."

Claire snorted. "Yeah, no. We've already walked three hours through a forest. I'm not up for another two hours on the side of the road."

"Okay, town it is then," Ethan mused. "We need to pawn our stuff first and find a place to rest."

"We're staying in this town?" Claire questioned.

"Did you not listen to what I said last night?" Ethan arched an eyebrow. "Do you really want to walk three hours back?"

"Yeah... sorry..." Claire cleared her throat, feeling embarrassed. "Alright, first, find a pawnshop, then find a hotel or motel or something. Then...?"

Ethan gazed at the late afternoon sky. "That's it for today, I guess. We'll grab dinner if you're hungry and then rest."

She nodded. "Sounds good."

—

Freeford, Missouri. Ethan and Claire now stood in a peculiar shop within the small town, surrounded by an assortment of items, from obsolete computers to decent jewelry tucked away in a corner. The shop bore the appearance of a hoarder's bedroom. They were inside a pawn shop.

As a fan on the counter oscillated to circulate air, Claire placed three specific items on the surface: two rings and a necklace, all fashioned from gold. These pieces of jewelry had been discovered in a drawer within a mansion, presumably owned by Spencer or his wife.

The pawnbroker scrutinized Claire with an unwavering gaze. "Where did you acquire these, Ma'am?"

"They're, uh, ours," she replied, a hint of nervousness barely detectable. "My fiancé and I lost our wallets in the forest yesterday, so we really need the money to get back home."

"Both of you lost your wallets?" The pawnbroker raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"They were in the same bag when we lost it," Claire asserted. "We were camping and got attacked by bears."

"Bears?" He furrowed his brow. "Yeah, you should've been more cautious. Bears are a common sight around here. Let me examine the quality of these jewelry for a moment..."

The pawnbroker inspected the three pieces using devices unfamiliar to Ethan. While doing so, he initiated small talk. "Where are you folks from? I don't recall seeing you around."

"We're from Springfield," Claire replied calmly. "Just taking a few days off work, you know? A little break to recharge. Who would've thought it would turn out like this..."

"You two have had quite the streak of bad luck," he whistled. "But these items are the real deal. Your fiancé must be wealthy, huh?"

Claire shot Ethan an amused look, prompting a shrug from him. "Not really..."

"In that case, he must truly love you," the pawnbroker chuckled. "I can offer you a thousand bucks, how does that sound?"

"A thousand bucks?" Claire frowned, sensing it might not be enough. "Could we get a bit more? These things are definitely worth more than that."

"Listen, lady, it's just a loan to get you back home, right?" the pawnbroker explained. "A thousand bucks is more than enough. You can come back for these rings later."

"But—"

"I can't go any higher than a thousand bucks," the pawnbroker stated firmly. "Do you both have IDs?"

"As I said..." Claire grumbled. "We lost them."

"Right," the pawnbroker cleared his throat. "Anyway, do you want to take the deal or not?"

"Alri—"

"Wait," Ethan interrupted Claire. He approached the pawnbroker, placing his hands on the counter and flashed a smile. "Hey, can we make a deal here?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, a crimson mist seeped out, drifting slowly toward the pawnbroker. When the man breathed it in, there were no immediate outward signs, but inside, Ethan's virus infiltrated the pawnbroker's nervous system and mind.

"A deal?" the pawnbroker raised an eyebrow. "What kind of deal?"

"How about you lend us the money— Wait, how much cash do you have right now?"

"On the counter? About three thousand bucks."

"Alright, you give us two thousand bucks, we'll take back these rings and necklace, and we'll be out of your store. We'll return the money, of course, if we can."

The pawnbroker frowned for a moment before unlocking his counter. "Fine. But you better return it."

In an instant, he placed stacks of bills on the counter and handed them to Ethan. Meanwhile, Claire stared at him, utterly astonished.

"Thanks, sir," Ethan smiled innocently. "You have a generous heart."

The pawnbroker scoffed, tossing the necklace and rings onto the counter. "Just get out of here."

Ethan pocketed the money and jewelry, then turned and exited the shop, with Claire following close behind. As they stepped onto the concrete sidewalk, Claire couldn't contain her curiosity and annoyance.

"What the hell did you just do?" Claire asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

"It's not easy to explain," Ethan shrugged. He then glanced at Claire before flicking her forehead, prompting an 'ouch' from her and an influx of foreign thoughts—memories of Ethan's conversation with Jill a few days earlier.

"Holy crap... you can do that too," she murmured. "You're a dangerous man, Ethan..."

Ethan chuckled, and they continued walking side by side on the sidewalk.