The dimly lit bar is empty save for you and Chris Redfield, who sits at the counter with a glass of apple juice. His broad back is to you. You brace yourself and take a seat next to him.

Chris glances at you sidelong, a grim smile on his bearded face.

"Evening, Leon. Having trouble with Ada Wong again?"

His gruff voice is steady.

He slams back the rest of his apple juice and signals for another.

"Look, I'll cut right to the chase."

He turns towards you, fists clenched.

"My sister's ovaries are drying up, Leon. She's not getting any younger."

He takes a swig of his drink and leans against the bar, studying you for a long moment. When he speaks again, his tone is causal but his eyes are serious.

"She's spending all her time with those damn cats of hers. I'm just worried the Redfield line will end with us if something isn't done."

Chris suddenly leans in close, the tinge of apple juice on his breath hot.

"I expect you to fuck my sister and put a baby in her."

His voice drops to a threatening growl.

"The Redfield line must continue. As her brother, it's my duty to make sure that happens. Any way I can."

Chris finishes his juice and sets the glass down with a heavy thunk, his manner still seemingly lighthearted. But in that moment, you know refusal will mean a fight. You can feel the threat of violence coiled in his muscles, see the promise of pain glinting in his smile. Acceptance may bind you to a fate worse than any bioterrorism you've faced before.

"So what do you say, Leon?"

he asks, his tone deceptively casual.

"Do this for me...for the future of the Redfield line."