𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Welcome, S.T.A.R.S. recruits,
today we’re talking about Baby Chris Redfield, the 1996 prototype of the man who would one day punch a boulder into submission.

In Resident Evil 1 HD Remaster, we witness Chris in his larval stage — before protein shakes, tactical vests, and plot armor turned him into a walking anatomy chart.

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬?

𝐚𝐠𝐞: Too young to manage inventory, too old to ask Jill for help (but he still does).

𝐎𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Professional Locked Door Enthusiast.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬: Carries six items max but can survive things Jill solves with logic.

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬:

Staring at doors
Mixing herbs like a clumsy botanist
Accidentally ruining speedruns

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬 (Surviving as a Muscle Infant)

𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 = 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧.
Want a weapon, a healing item, and two keys?
Too bad. You’re a minimalist now. Embrace the suffering.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Baby Chris believes the knife is a real weapon.
It’s not. It’s a zombie tickler.
Use it only if you hate yourself.

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 – 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.
She heals you, plays the piano, and literally saves your life multiple times.
You are basically her armed pet.

𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧.
Combine enough green herbs and Chris will briefly believe he’s won the war.
(Spoiler: He just gained 25 HP.)

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

Chris wakes up.
Everyone’s gone.
He sees a spooky mansion and thinks: “What could possibly go wrong?”
Twenty locked doors and a few thousand zombies later, he realizes the true enemy wasn’t Umbrella...
…it was inventory management all along.

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐉𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐯𝐬. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: Jill Valentine
𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: 8 slots
𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠: Master
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫: Barry “My Sandwich” Burton
𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞: Tactical Queen
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐛𝐞: “I got this.”

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: Baby Chris Redfield
𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: 6 slots (😢)
𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠: “I don’t have the key for that.”
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫: Rebecca “Let me heal you” Chambers
𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞: Discount Military Aesthetic
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐛𝐞: “Wesker?? Hello??”

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭: 3 raw eggs & guilt
𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡: 1 green herb
𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫: The blood of his enemies (or a berry protein shake)

𝐀𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

“Muscle Training Begins!” – Start the game as Chris
“Empty Like My Inventory” – Try to carry a shotgun and a healing item
“Rebecca pls help” – Survive only because she exists
“Herb King” – Mix random herbs and pray it heals you
“BABY NO MORE” – Finish the game and develop trauma for Resident Evil 5

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 – 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒.𝐓.𝐀.𝐑.𝐒.
No one hates each other as passionately as Chris Redfield and Albert Wesker.
In Resident Evil 1, their relationship is pure tension — full of betrayal, sunglasses, and suspiciously long stares.
Wesker manipulates, Chris trusts… and somewhere in between, a new kind of virus spreads: feelings.

By RE5, it’s completely out of control:
two men, one volcano, too much sweat, and a heartfelt “CHRIIIIIISSS!” —
less a final boss fight, more a dramatic breakup scene.

From S.T.A.R.S. to star-crossed lovers.
A bond so intense, not even lava could burn it away.

They meet again — boss and subordinate, muscle and sunglasses.
One runs, one teleports, and somewhere between the pallets lies unresolved tension.

Wesker: “Submit, Chris!”
Chris: “Not again, Albert… not in the Entity’s realm!”

It’s not a chase. It’s a breakup.

Chris entered the Spencer Mansion as a young STARS officer.
He left as a man who can’t open a door without reliving his past.

He doesn’t carry keys anymore.
– Not because he forgets them, but because every lock is a memory.

He used to like herbs.
– Now the smell of basil makes him flinch.

He calls his combat knife “a therapeutic tool.”
– It heals neither zombies nor his emotions.

Rebecca taught him how to play piano after the incident.
– He only plays in minor key now.

When Chris looks in the mirror, he doesn’t ask,
“Who am I?”
He asks, “How many inventory slots would it take to carry myself?”

Every time he opens a door, he hears the door-loading sound echo in his mind.
– Even when it’s just the fridge.

He calls sleep “a side quest that never loads.”

When someone says “Wesker,” Chris automatically responds:
“He’s dead… right?”

His doctor stopped prescribing him medication.
– Now it’s just green herbs and deep breathing.

He tried opening a gym.
– It’s called The Spencer Gym. No one goes in. Ever.

Sometimes he swears he sees sunglasses glinting in dark corners.
– Then he mutters, “Not again…” and bench-presses out of fear.

When someone says Resident Evil, Chris gets a twitch in his eye.
– “I was there,” he whispers. “I saw the door animation.”

He doesn’t trust bosses, doors, or science anymore.
– And honestly? Fair.

When asked how it was, he just says:

“Rebecca survived.
I’ve got muscle memory… and trauma.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬)
Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine are the ultimate team.
Or, more accurately: a married couple with a gun license.

He kicks down doors, she unlocks them.
He loses items, she finds them.
Together, they argue lovingly about who gets to shoot the zombie dog.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐄𝟏

Jill: “Be careful, Chris!”
Chris: “I’m STARS, Jill!”

Five minutes later: Chris is on fire, Jill’s sighing, and Rebecca’s bringing green herbs again.

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Jill’s the planner — the calm, tactical one.
Chris is… the biceps.

When Jill says:

“This could be a trap.”
Chris says:
“Cool. I’ll go first.”

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐃𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬

They don’t act like coworkers — they act like a couple that’s survived one too many horror vacations.

You can feel it in their energy:

Jill carries the logic.
Chris carries the trauma.

Together, they carry the franchise.

𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭

If you play as Chris, Jill talks about you like you’re her missing boyfriend.
If you play as Jill, Chris talks about her like she’s the only person who understands his key issues.

Chris and Jill aren’t just partners —
they’re what happens when teamwork, trust issues, and repressed chemistry get trapped in a mansion full of zombies.

He calls her “Partner.”
She calls him “Idiot.”
And together, they save the world —
…and ruin every candlelight dinner with a Tyrant.

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

Chris Redfield in the first Resident Evil isn’t a hero —
he’s a hopeful survivor armed with a butter knife and six pockets of dreams.
He’s the embodiment of early game design: unfair, illogical, and absolutely legendary.

And so ends our chaotic adventure of biceps, herbs, and far too many door animations. Stay strong, stay clever—and always carry enough healing items!”

“Thanks for following Baby Chris on his epic journey through horror, trauma, and illogical doors. May your inventory always have enough space!”

“Whether you’re running as Chris, planning as Jill, or just watching the chaos unfold—remember: zombies don’t die, but humor survives everything.”

“This concludes our guide. Go out, survive the mansion, and remember: if all else fails, call Rebecca. She’s got it under control.”

“At the end of the day, remember: muscle helps against zombies, but nothing heals mental trauma. Except maybe green herbs… and a little laughter.”

“With that, your guide through doors, trauma, and countless Lickers comes to an end. Stay vigilant, keep zombies at bay—and don’t forget to laugh at the absurdity every once in a while.”

So go on, rookie.
Load your pistol.
And remember:
𝐈𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝… 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐉𝐢𝐥𝐥.
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