Chapter 62 - Saving A Damsel In Distress

A/N : New week = more power stones.

Oh, by the way, I might not be able to update this on Tuesday or Wednesday as I'm going back to my hometown.

But don't worry, I might upload more chapters on Thursday to make up for it—as long as you keep sending me your power stones 😉

For this week, 50 Powerstones = 1 bonus chapter.

And if you're not satisfied, feel free to join P@tre*n if you want access to more than 30+ It's only 2 dollars a month, by the way, for the Wednesday tier 😛

...

Allen watched Benjamin counting the money, the man's expression twisted into something almost indecent. He could only shake his head.

"You'd better leave now," Allen warned coldly. "And I suggest you leave this city as well."

He turned as if to walk away.

"Wait—can you hold on a second?" Benjamin called out, stopping him.

Allen paused and glanced back. "What is it now?"

Benjamin's face grew unexpectedly serious.

"I'm asking you… please treat Katherine well," he said, meeting Allen's eyes. "She's a sweet girl. I just want her to receive the kindness she deserves from now on."

Allen lifted a brow.

"If you care about her that much, then why did you accept my offer?" he mocked, his voice edged with sarcasm.

Benjamin gave a crooked smile and sniffed lightly.

"Compared to love, money is far more delicious," he replied calmly. "And it smells sweeter too."

Allen let out a quiet scoff and shook his head.

"You really are hopeless."

Without another word, Benjamin turned and walked away first, disappearing into the night.

Allen stood there for a moment before shifting his gaze toward the direction Katherine had run earlier.

Then, slipping his hands into his pockets, he followed after her.

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Katherine wandered alone through the silent night. Her steps eventually faltered in a narrow, dim alley, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Before long, several rough-looking men emerged from the shadows.

"Hey, girl… are you out here all alone?" one of them sneered, his gaze shamelessly roaming over her, making Katherine shiver.

Panicked, she tried to cry out for help. "Somebody! Please!"

Her plea was answered only by mocking laughter.

"Don't waste your breath… no one's going to hear you here," another thug jeered.

Katherine's face turned pale. She spun around, desperate to escape—only to find her path blocked. She was completely surrounded.

"Please… someone, help me!" she cried again, her voice trembling.

Just as one of the men reached out to grab her, his hand suddenly stopped midair.

Allen had appeared out of nowhere.

He was gripping the thug's wrist firmly.

Katherine gasped. In the dim light, Allen stood tall in front of her, his figure shielding her from the men. For a brief second, he looked almost heroic.

"Alright," Allen said evenly, his tone calm but firm. "I suggest you walk away. Or else…"

"Or else what? Don't think we're scared of you," the thug shot back with exaggerated bravado.

Allen nearly rolled his eyes.

God… I regret hiring them if this is the best acting they can pull off, he thought with an inward sigh.

But then one of the men suddenly pulled out a knife.

Allen blinked.

Wait. That wasn't part of the deal.

The blade glinted faintly under the alley light.

They're improvising now? Seriously…

But his expression remained calm.

In one swift motion, Allen twisted the wrist of the man holding the knife and struck him cleanly. The thug collapsed to the ground, unconscious before he even realized what had happened.

The others froze in shock.

Allen didn't advance. He simply gave them a cold look and a subtle gesture toward their fallen companion.

That was enough.

They hurriedly grabbed their unconscious friend and dragged him away, scrambling out of the alley without daring to look back.

Silence fell once more.

Katherine stood frozen, her wide eyes fixed on Allen. Her heart was still racing—but now for a completely different reason.

She had just witnessed how effortlessly he handled the situation.

And in that moment, admiration flickered unmistakably in her gaze.

Allen, who saw Catherine's admiring expression, smiled because his plans A, B, and C for love seemed to be working.

"Hmmm, Mrs. Warrant… you're safe now. Next time, if you plan to go out, you really should remember to bring a bodyguard," Allen said calmly. He purposely didn't ask if Katherin was alright—lines like that felt too cliché, straight out of the kind of anime protagonists he used to watch.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Winters," Katherin replied softly, lowering her head a little.

"You're welcome." Allen gave her a faint smile. "How about I walk you home? I'd hate for something like this to happen again on your way back, Mrs. Warrant."

Katherin hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Alright…"

As they walked side by side, Katherin suddenly glanced at him with a touch more courage.

"Mr. Winters… may I call you Allen? Of course, you can call me Katherin as well."

Allen studied her for a moment, then allowed himself a small smile. She was surprisingly forward for someone he'd just met.

"Of course. Besides, I'd prefer to call you Katherin."

During the walk back, Katherin kept the conversation flowing. She asked about his work, his daily life, and even brought up light topics that made her laugh every so often. Little by little, her mood seemed to lift, the earlier fear fading away as if it had never happened.

Finally, she gathered the courage to ask, "Allen… could I have your phone number? I'd like to… maybe invite you to dinner sometime, if you don't mind."

Allen looked at her slightly flushed face and gave a light nod.

"Of course."

He handed over his contact information, and Katherin accepted it with a smile that was warmer, more genuine than before.

When they arrived at City Hall, Katherin was immediately greeted by her father's guards waiting at the entrance. She turned back to Allen, offered him a warm smile, and gave a small wave.

"See you again," she said softly before stepping inside the building.

Allen simply returned the gesture with a slight nod and wave, watching until she disappeared behind the large doors.

Not long after, a young female secretary approached him politely.

"Mr. Winters, thank you for escorting Miss home safely," she said.

"My pleasure," Allen replied lightly. He then pulled a small memory card from his pocket and handed it to her. "Please give the mayor my regards."

The secretary accepted it with a respectful nod before heading back inside.

Allen cast one last glance at the grand building, then turned away, his steps unhurried as he made his way back toward his apartment.

....

The next day, Allen ordered two of his guards to inspect a large empty building where two helicopters were stored. They had been a gift from the mayor, part of a private agreement between them. Allen had already designated the location as a future emergency evacuation point—especially if the outbreak he feared ever became reality.

According to his calculations, escaping by helicopter would be one of the safest options available. The only method statistically safer was the underground rail system.

After confirming everything was in place, Allen descended into the underground laboratory and resumed his work. He had taken the entire previous day off, yet no one questioned it.

Now he returned to his research.

His objective remained the same: merging the T-Virus with his custom-designed super soldier serum.

Forty-two attempts.

Forty-two complete failures.

The issue was simple.

His serum was too powerful.

Instead of stabilizing the T-Virus, it completely dominated and devoured it, breaking it down at the cellular level until nothing remained. The viral structure simply couldn't survive the aggressive nature of his formula.

Every test subject died.

At least none of them mutated.

"It seems my serum is too strong for the T-Virus," Allen muttered as he recorded the results. "Even when I increase the viral dosage, it just weakens further…"

He leaned back in thought.

If the T-Virus was too weak…

Then he needed something far more unstable.

Without hesitation, he retrieved a sample of the Extremis Virus—one he had obtained from a Tony in the Marvel universe.

He initiated the fusion sequence.

For a brief moment, the readings appeared stable.

Then—

BOOOM!

A violent explosion tore through the laboratory.

Allen's body was hurled across the room, slamming hard against the reinforced wall. Equipment shattered. Smoke and debris filled the air.

"Ouch… that actually hurt," he groaned.

He had taken the full force of the blast.

Burns covered his skin. His lab coat was scorched and torn. The room fell into heavy silence.

Then his body began to regenerate.

Burned flesh restored itself. Damaged tissue repaired at a visible rate. Internal injuries vanished as if they had never existed.

Within moments, he stood up completely healed.

Only the ruined lab and his destroyed clothes proved the explosion had occurred.

Ding…

The lab door slid open.

Soft footsteps echoed inside.

A woman stepped in, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a chocolate-glazed donut.

"Allen, what happened in here? Why is your lab such a mess?"

Annette Birkin's gentle voice carried obvious concern.

She quickly set the tray down and rushed toward him.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt, Allen?" Her voice was like music to his ears, a soothing melody that cut through the chaos.

Over the past few weeks, Allen had grown quite close to Annette. On several occasions, he would start conversations with this MILF woman. Especially because Annette had a rather cliché dream—she genuinely wanted to help humanity live more comfortably and free from disease.

And Allen always played the role of a good listener.

That, naturally, made Annette feel comfortable talking to him.

Allen rose slowly, took the coffee she had brought, and sipped it. "I'm fine. Looks like I just need to clean up this place first."

Annette sighed, gazing at him with a mixture of tenderness and mild reproach. "You really should rest, Allen. You've been down here too long. Don't be like my husband—working non-stop on research until he looks like a lunatic."

Allen gave a faint smile at that. With his burned clothes and the wrecked lab around him, he really did look more like a mad scientist than a genius researcher.

"Of course not. I'm nothing like William, not that extreme," Allen replied, leaning back in his chair, enjoying his time conversing with the beautiful woman in front of him.

"That's a relief. By the way, Allen… what exactly are you working on? Why does this place look like a mess, as if an explosion just happened?" Annette asked, her tone calmer now. She just wanted to make sure there hadn't been any dangerous accidents here.

"Well… you could say there really was a small explosion earlier," Allen said casually.

Annette frowned. "Are you working on some new biological weapon or something else?"

"Biological weapons? Of course not. I have no interest in something like that. I'm refining a serum of my own," Allen answered with a faint smile.

"Oh, speaking of biological weapons," he continued, "why is it that only two test subjects are recorded as successful? Do you have the complete data on that?"

"Two subjects? You mean the Tyrant Project, right?" Annette gave him a knowing smile. "That data isn't entirely accurate, Allen. So far, there are actually four of them. Do you know why?"

"I have no idea. I was never granted access to those files," Allen admitted.

Annette's smile deepened slightly. "That's because the cost of their maintenance is too high. And so far, there's only one who doesn't require special upkeep."

Allen leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? And who might that be?"

"His name is Sergei. He's Spencer's personal bodyguard. You should be careful around him, Allen. Don't ever cross him." Annette's tone shifted, carrying a note of warning, as though she was speaking to a trusted friend.

Allen nodded slowly, though a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. "So, in other words, this entire project is pretty much pointless?"

"You could say that, yes," Annette agreed.

A brief silence passed before she looked at him again. "Oh, right. Earlier you said you were working on a new serum. Can I know what kind of serum it is?"

Allen hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should tell her. But eventually, he chose honesty. "I'm refining my own version of a Super Soldier serum. You could say I'm trying to upgrade it. Annette, have you ever thought about living longer… or having superhuman strength? That's what I'm working on."

Annette fell silent, considering his words. The idea sounded both tempting and dangerous. The thought of an extended life and enhanced body was alluring, especially for her. Nearing the age of thirty-seven, with forty looming ahead, she had already been worrying about wrinkles and had been using various beauty products just to keep her body looking youthful.

"Your idea is fascinating… quite special, actually," she admitted with a small nod.

Allen saw an opening. "Annette, I need your help with this. With your talent, I know we could pull it off together. Especially with your expertise in serology—our work would finish much faster. I don't want to be involved in Project A or B your husband is working on. Those people just argue endlessly."

Allen then gently took her hands into his own, his eyes locking onto hers. "What I want is peaceful research… and a friend I can count on."

That earnest look in his eyes, combined with the warmth of his touch, made Annette's heart soften.

"Alright, Allen. I'll help you," she finally said, giving him a faint smile. "But don't toy with me. This could affect our friendship. And more importantly… I can't risk my family's safety."

Allen's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Relax. I'd never endanger my friend—or her family."

Yet deep down, Allen already knew William, Annette's husband, wouldn't last much longer. He didn't even need to lift a finger—Spencer would see to it. Albert Wesker himself had to stay in the shadows, hiding from Sergei's watchful eyes just to survive. But William? He was openly defying Umbrella and refusing to hand over his research.

Annette gazed at Allen for a long moment. Deep inside, the thought of using him for her own gain had crossed her mind. But the longer she considered it, the stronger the sense of regret she knew she would feel if she ever betrayed the fragile friendship that had begun to grow between them. Allen had become her friend, someone who made her feel valued—and if she destroyed that trust, she knew she could never forgive herself.

In the end, Annette drew a deep breath and made her decision—she would help Allen wholeheartedly.

Almost unconsciously, she began to compare Allen with her husband. The realization stung. As a wife, what she was feeling might be considered wrong. And yet, she couldn't deny it: around Allen, she felt more comfortable, more appreciated… something she hadn't felt in her marriage with William for a very long time.

"By the way, Allen," Annette finally spoke, pushing away her thoughts, "what kind of serum are you working on? Is it something like the T-Virus?"

Allen gave a small smile and shook his head. "No… not at all."

He then began explaining to her the details of his Super Soldier serum. Every word that left his lips left Annette stunned. If what he claimed was true, then this serum could already be considered near perfect—even more valuable than the T-Virus or the G-Virus. More astonishing still was its ability to grant immunity to those very infections.

"Allen… this is incredible," Annette whispered, almost in disbelief.

Allen's expression grew more serious. "I also have samples of other serums. My goal is to merge them all into a single, stable formula."

Annette looked at him intently. "If your serum is already this close to perfection, why would you still need my help? I'm sure you could finish it on your own."

Allen only shook his head softly, leaning a little closer. "You see, that explosion earlier… it was caused by one of the test subjects. He blew up like a bomb, the result of instability when I tried combining the different serums."

He then reached for Annette's hand, clasping it firmly as if channeling his determination through that touch. "That's why I need you. With your help, I know we can create something far greater. Something truly perfect."

Annette felt the warmth of his hand, along with a tremor in her chest she couldn't quite define. His words didn't just persuade her—they shook something deep inside her.