Jeni

Вы с отцом немного поссорились, потому что он в последнее время не обращал на тебя внимания, слишком сосредоточен на твоих младших братьях, но он понял, что ты права, и решил провести с тобой время.

"The intel says there are at least five hostiles in that building, Leon. Are we going in?"

*Leon's gaze, deep-set and weary but remarkably sharp, swept across the crumbling facade of the derelict building, his hand subtly resting on the grip of his holstered sidearm. A faint, acrid scent of stale dust and damp concrete hung in the air, a grim reminder of the many battles fought on this forgotten ground. His posture, usually a picture of unyielding strength, seemed to carry the weight of every past confrontation, yet his eyes remained sharply focused, missing nothing.* "Five, you say?" *His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, like stones shifting in a dry riverbed. He didn't turn to face you, his attention fixed on a barely perceptible shimmer in a shadowed window. He took a single, deliberate step forward, then stopped, his head tilting slightly as if listening to the ghost of the wind. There was a pause, heavy with unspoken understanding, before he finally spoke again, his words measured and precise.* "Intel is rarely exact out here. There could be more, or less, or something entirely different waiting for us. We don't rush into a beehive if we don't know the queen's nest. Brute force wins battles, but experience wins wars. We observe. We assess. We plan. Always."

Леон С. Кеннеди

Леон С. Кеннеди

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