Chapter 82: Just Kidding (Patreon)

"That idiot got played for a fool. And to think he's the chief of a whole department — turns out he's just dead weight!"

"And that Warren — just look at the garbage he promoted!"

The department head, nearly seeing red with fury, sank back into his chair.

Seeing this, the secretary — ignoring the strange prickle of unease crawling over his scalp — ventured carefully, "So, my lord, what should we do?"

Hearing this, the department head let out an angry laugh.

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?! Shit! I told Spencer time and again — don't run that damned virus research, don't put the lab in the Arklay Mountains. If the virus ever leaked, the consequences would be unthinkable."

"And the result... the result... you want to guess how he reacted?"

The secretary swallowed hard. "Wh-what did he say?"

"He let every word of my warning go in one ear and out the other! I told him — Umbrella's a giant now, and bioweapons are a ticking bomb. One slip and it'll blow us all sky-high."

"Right, exactly — that's why I think your proposal was completely correct, my lord."

At the secretary's question, the department head slammed a fist on the desk, making the man flinch.

"How should I know what's going on in that old bastard's head? He didn't just tear into me — he told me that if these two eyes of mine could only see this far, he'd have to consider replacing the head of the North American branch!"

The secretary, quietly relishing the drama, pressed on.

"Is that also why your authority ended up split three ways afterward, my lord?"

The department head glanced at him, then stood and jabbed a finger toward his head.

"After all these damn years following me, what exactly have you learned?"

The secretary didn't dare flinch away. He simply took it in silence, then quickly spoke up.

"Forgive me, my lord — I honestly don't know."

The department head laughed despite his anger, shook his head, and sank back into his chair again.

Still, a man like this was exactly the kind he could trust.

"It's not that my authority got split three ways. Those powers never belonged to me to begin with."

"That old fox Spencer is suspicious by nature. You probably think he had William and Sergei split my authority because he stopped trusting me after that proposal, right?"

The secretary nodded like a chicken pecking at rice. The names William and Sergei rang in his ears like thunder.

The former oversaw every matter, great and small, at the Raccoon City laboratory.

The latter held command over most of the North American branch's military authority.

And his own superior — the nominal head of the North American branch — held power mainly over administrative appointments and dismissals, plus a small share of military authority.

Seeing the secretary's expression, the department head rubbed his face with a pained look.

This man had nothing going for him. His only virtue was loyalty.

"Wrong. Dead wrong. In Spencer's eyes, no one is ever fully trusted. Not me, not Sergei, and William even less so!"

"He needs the three of us checking each other, tripping each other up. Only then does he feel at ease..."

Watching the secretary fall into thought, the department head felt drained.

"Forget it. Enough of this."

Still fuming, he couldn't resist adding one more thing.

"Damn it, and here I went and transferred John over to Arklay Laboratory to be its director — and he still couldn't hold that pack of pigs together! Christ!" He forced down his anger and turned to the secretary. "All right. Now, relay my orders."

"One: fully cooperate with the National Guard's operations."

"Two: issue an apology statement. The tone must be sincere — no trace of hostility."

"Three: compensate the victims' families generously, and don't be stingy about it. Warn everyone down the line — anyone who dares drag their feet on this shouldn't expect any mercy from me!"

"Four: the apology statement should say our North American branch knew the laboratory existed, but had no idea it was conducting human experimentation or virus research. Make it clear the Raccoon City authorities and our own outpost there played us on both ends! I want Brian and Warren both dead!"

Unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, the secretary asked cautiously, "But, my lord... will anyone actually believe that story?"

The department head shot him an unfriendly glance, and the secretary felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.

"You do exactly what I tell you. Is that clear?"

"Clear, my lord. Understood. My apologies."

The department head let out a long breath.

"We don't need everyone to believe this story. But we have to say it anyway. And trust me — if we show the right attitude, people will believe it. Understand? What matters is the attitude!"

The secretary, looking at his boss — hard on the outside, soft underneath — nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord!"

"Good. Now that's more like it."

"Five: recruit, at whatever cost, a team of virologists with no ties to Umbrella. Give them proper protection and send them in alongside the National Guard into the Arklay Mountains to develop an antidote."

The secretary wrote it all down in his notebook, word for word.

Watching his earnest diligence, the department head nodded.

"One last thing — I'll go to Raccoon City myself, kneel before the victims' families, and apologize."

"And I'll grant proper honors to everyone who did right by this whole affair."

Hearing this, the secretary panicked on the spot.

"You mustn't, my lord! They'll beat you to death!"

The department head shook his head at that. He stood, and with a smooth motion, lit himself a cigarette.

"I told you — you do exactly what I say. This is my only way out! Anyone who stands in my way dies!"

"All right. Get out. Move fast, and wait for my order."

"Whenever I give the word, that's when you act — exactly as I told you."

"Pull it off and I'll pay you a bonus, kid. Screw it up, and the best case for the two of us is dropping the soap in a prison shower. The worst case, you don't want to know. Now get out!"

Watching his boss grow more and more unhinged, the secretary didn't dare ask anything else. He hurried to take his leave.

Once he was alone in the room, he stared at the phone on his desk.

"Damn it, Spencer. I told you already — don't mess around with virus experiments. Wouldn't it be nice to just quietly make money instead?"

"And now it's all gone to hell, and I'm the one stuck cleaning up your mess, you goddamn bastard!"

"You stubborn old thing who just won't die! Umbrella's going to be ruined in your hands sooner or later — shit!"

After venting, the department head picked up the phone, swallowed his anger, and dialed a string of numbers.

The call connected quickly.

His tone shifted completely from the complaining one moments before, turning extremely respectful.

"Hello, good day, Mr. Patrick."

"Yes, yes, it's me. Please, could you relay to Mr. Spencer that the situation is very serious right now."

"Here's how it stands..." At 9:05 a.m., in the chairman's office, Patrick was briefing Spencer on the latest intelligence out of Raccoon City.

When he finished, Spencer's face showed nothing.

No one could tell what he was thinking. Patrick didn't dare disturb him, and simply stood quietly to the side, waiting for Spencer's judgment.

A few minutes later, Spencer spoke, his tone flat and indifferent.

"Tell Amon" — the department head — "that I approve of his approach."

"But Brian and Warren — leave them be, as much as possible."