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Chapter 82 - 82

Chapter 82: With a Self-Destructing Nuclear Warhead

As the evening sun shone through the gaps in the dome of the helipad, it tinted the rotors of the Osprey a dark gold.

Wu Fan stood beside the cabin, hands in his pockets, watching Wells circle the tiltrotor three times. His expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then from shock to a numb, blank stare.

"Boss, what is this?"

Wells' voice sounded a bit ethereal.

"A V-22 Osprey."

Wu Fan patted the Umbrella Corporation logo on the fuselage. "It can take off and land vertically, take off from short distances, has twice the range of the Puma, and three times the payload. It can transport supplies and deploy troops."

Wells placed his hand on the machine. It was cold, metallic, and real.

He swallowed hard.

"This thing... is very rare in the military. There are only a few of them. This one is even more advanced than the one I've seen before."

"Of course it's advanced; it can even carry a self-destructing nuclear bomb."

Wu Fan's tone was as casual as if he were saying the weather was nice today.

Wells' hand bounced off the machine as if it had been burned.

He turned his head, looked at Wu Fan, and waited a few seconds.

Wu Fan didn't laugh.

Wells' face turned pale.

"Just kidding."

Wu Fan finally smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, let me show you how to operate it."

Wells stood at the cockpit door, took a deep breath, and climbed inside.

The lights on the dashboard came on in concentric circles—red, green, and yellow—like a miniature city.

His finger hovered over the buttons, unsure which one to press.

Wu Fan leaned over from the passenger seat and pointed them out one by one.

"This is the engine startup, this is rotor tilt control, this is navigation—but of course it's unusable now, so we can only rely on a compass—and this is the weapon system."

Wells was trying his best to remember everything.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his nose.

He dared not wipe it away, afraid he would miss something in the blink of an eye.

"Take it easy."

Wu Fan leaned back in his chair. "It's not your fault you fell."

Wells: ...…

Wells gave a wry smile and gripped the joystick.

The base was bathed in an orange-red glow at dusk.

Smoke drifted from the canteen's chimney, mingling with the aroma of dinner.

Amy stood at the door of the third-floor office and knocked, but there was no response.

She pushed the door open and went inside; no one was there.

She frowned, walked to the window, and saw a plane she had never seen before near the tarmac, along with two figures gesturing beside it.

She watched for a while, then turned and left.

Merle and Sean stood in front of the desk, still covered in the dust from their trip back from Terminus.

Unusually, Merle didn't cross his legs; he stood very straight with his hands hanging at his sides.

Sean stood even straighter than him, like a taut string.

"Boss, you were right."

Merle's voice was very low. "That place is full of bastards who eat people, slaughter them like livestock, bleed them, and cut off their flesh. I've seen evil, but I've never seen anything like this."

Sean didn't speak, but his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Wu Fan leaned back in his chair, looked at the two men, and remained silent for a while.

"Don't worry, they can't escape. The lab needs live subjects for research, materials for the wildfire virus, and test subjects for the vaccine. They will contribute to all humanity—in a way they don't want to."

Merle paused for a moment, then grinned.

"Wow, I never thought they'd get one last chance to be human and contribute to all humanity."

Sean's lips twitched.

A boss like that was worth following.

Wu Fan waved his hand.

"Go and rest. There's work to do tomorrow."

After the door closed—

"Red Queen, is the fourth basement level ready?"

"The isolation laboratory is ready, and the test subjects are in place."

The lights on the fourth basement level of the Hive were colder than usual.

The isolation laboratory at the end of the corridor had explosion-proof glass walls stretching from floor to ceiling. Inside was a metal laboratory chair with restraints for the hands, feet, and neck.

Next to it was an electrocardiogram monitor, its screen flashing green.

Beside it stood a row of test tube racks containing several light green test tubes—Elpis Version I.

Gray was still struggling when he was pushed inside.

Two people in biohazard suits forced him down into the chair, tightening the restraints around his wrists, ankles, and neck.

He turned his head and saw several people in white coats standing outside the glass wall. Some were taking notes, some were adjusting instruments, and some were looking into microscopes.

"What are you trying to do?"

His voice was shrill, like fingernails scraping against a blackboard. "Let me go! Do you know who I am? My men will find you—"

Nobody paid him any attention.

Dr. Arthur walked in holding a syringe with a very fine needle. The liquid inside was pale blue.

He walked up to Gray, disinfected his arm, inserted the needle, injected the medication, and then removed it.

The movements were light and skillful, like giving a baby a vaccine.

Gray cursed a few times, then realized he didn't feel anything.

He quieted down, his eyes fixed on the white coats outside the glass wall like a wild dog locked in a cage, baring its teeth but unable to bite anyone.

"Observe."

Arthur's voice came through the walkie-talkie, as calm as if he were reading a lab report.

The electrocardiogram monitor displayed green waveforms. Blood pressure, heart rate, blood oxygen—everything was normal.

Five minutes passed, and Gray suddenly opened his eyes wide, his pupils dilated.

His body began to twitch—not with violent spasms, but with subtle, persistent tremors, as if something were crawling through his veins.

"Heart rate increased. Blood pressure increased."

Candice's voice came through the speaker.

Gray opened his mouth as if to shout, but only a series of muffled breaths came out of his throat.

A large amount of fresh blood gushed from his mouth.

His eyes rolled upward, revealing a large expanse of white, then rolled back down—but their color had changed to a grayish white.

He looked down at his hands, his fingers spasming, his nails scraping against the metal armrest with a harsh sound.

He looked up and saw the white coats outside the glass wall. He opened his mouth and let out a low growl.

It wasn't a human voice.

"Conversion complete. Time elapsed: eight minutes."

Edwin wrote a line in his notebook.

Arthur picked up another syringe and entered the laboratory.

Gray turned his head, his gray eyes staring at him, his mouth open, saliva dripping from his teeth.

Arthur walked over and inserted the needle into his arm.

Gray roared and struggled, but the restraints were too tight, and he couldn't move.

The bluish-green liquid was pushed into his bloodstream.

Gray's body suddenly stiffened, as if he had been electrocuted from the inside. His head snapped back, his mouth gaped open, and he let out a long, piercing howl.

Then he collapsed like an empty sack of flour, his head tilted to the side, his mouth half-open, and his eyes half-closed.

The electrocardiogram monitor jumped once, then again, before becoming a straight line.

A few seconds later, it jumped again.

It wasn't a sinus rhythm; it was disordered, chaotic electrical activity, like a malfunctioning radio.

Gray slowly raised his head.

His gray eyes darted around before locking onto the white coats outside the glass wall.

He struggled, and the restraints creaked under the strain.

"Failure."

Arthur shook his head. "The vaccine is ineffective against those who are already infected."

Inside the sealed room, Mary was pressed against the blast-proof glass, her mouth opening and closing as she shouted something, but the soundproofing was so effective that no sound could get through.

Her face was covered in tears, and she slapped her hands against the glass, leaving blurry handprints behind.

Nobody looked at her.

Teresa was the second person pushed in.

She was young, in her early twenties, with messy brown hair hanging over her shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears and bruises, along with a cut that had appeared sometime during the night.

She was trembling all over, like a leaf in the wind.

"Please... let me go..."

Her voice was very soft, and as the restraints tightened around her, tears welled up again.

"I didn't do anything... they forced me to..."

No one answered her.

Arthur said to his assistant, "Bring Gray in."

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