The Merchant stood in the shadows of a broken archway, his coat draped in mismatched pouches, his strange blue lantern casting eerie light on a workbench. “Got somethin’ that might tickle your fancy, stranger.”
“The Exclusive,” the Merchant whispered. “Cost ya more than pesetas. Costs a memory.” resident evil 4 exclusive upgrade
Ting-ting-ting…
Leon hesitated. “What kind of memory?” The Merchant stood in the shadows of a
Leon S. Kennedy crouched behind the crumbling stone wall, the acrid smell of gunpowder and damp earth filling his lungs. His Silver Ghost—the trusty starting pistol—clicked empty. Ahead, a hulking Garrador tore its chains free, its blind rage swinging massive claws that shredded the chapel’s pillars like paper. Costs a memory
Leon didn’t look back. He already couldn’t remember why the weight of the pistol felt so familiar—or why his chest ached for a ghost he could no longer name.
“Damn it,” Leon muttered, slapping in his last magazine.