RE - Chapter 280: What Are You Doing? (Patreon)

“...Ugh.”

Alan’s head was pounding, and his entire body felt like he’d been hit by a bad case of the flu.

He was burning up all over, even his eyes felt hot.

“Cough, cough...”

He had no idea how long it took before he finally managed to crack his eyes open.

The fluorescent light on the ceiling made him turn his head away instinctively. His gaze settled on a potted plant nearby, and only then did his vision slowly come into focus.

“Where... am I... cough, cough.”

The high fever had left Alan’s voice painfully hoarse, while a sharp, itching sensation filled his throat.

He gave up trying to speak and instead focused on figuring out what was going on.

Wasn’t I at a gas station when I passed out?

Wait... what are all these memories after that? Why do they feel so unfamiliar?

Alan tried to raise a hand and rub his throbbing temple, only to discover that all four of his limbs were restrained.

Unable to break free, he began slowly sorting through the memories in his head.

Raccoon City... I escaped from there?

Why does the me in these memories know the police station so well? I’ve never even been there.

Federal agent, Veronica, Spain...

What the hell is all this?

I did all of that? That doesn’t seem possible.

The memories kept flowing through his mind like a stream.

...Leon.

By the time Alan finally finished piecing everything together, his face was covered in cold sweat.

The flood of memories had nearly overwhelmed him.

Still, he had managed to connect them all.

The only problem was that many of the events had no clear cause and effect. There was nothing explaining why he had chosen to do certain things.

He had no idea at all.

Why had he marked specific dates on a calendar?

Why had he contacted Curtis Miller ahead of time?

And why had he suddenly gone up into the mountains to snipe Wesker? How had he known Wesker would even be there?

All of it made Alan wonder whether these memories had been implanted.

Otherwise, why were they so disconnected?

It was bizarre. Even more confusing than a reading comprehension question.

But if all of it really had happened...

Then his current situation seemed pretty bad.

The faint sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

Alan immediately closed his eyes and pretended he was still unconscious.

The access lock beeped, and a researcher wearing a gas mask entered the room.

The man first checked Alan’s condition on the bed.

His skin was flushed, cold sweat covered his body, and there were obvious signs that he had been struggling against the restraints.

“Hmm... The immune cultivation program has been very successful, but that’s enough for today.

“Look at you. If we keep going, you might actually die on us.”

The casual, almost indifferent mockery irritated Alan, but he forced himself not to react.

The researcher bent down and released the restraint around Alan’s left wrist.

Then, just as he was about to fit a prepared device around Alan’s arm...

Now!

Alan’s left hand shot out and clamped down hard on the man’s groin.

The moment he felt what he had grabbed, Alan fought back his disgust and squeezed with all the strength he had left.

Even as weak as he was, with his entire body feeling strangely light, he still managed to...

Ahem.

Neuter him.

“Hngh! OOOH!!!”

The researcher’s face turned livid from the overwhelming pain.

Somehow finding strength he never knew he had, he tore himself free from Alan’s grip and immediately doubled over, clutching his groin with both hands.

His face twisted grotesquely as veins bulged across his forehead.

The pain left him unable to speak.

He collapsed to the floor without even managing to call for help, struggled for a few seconds, then passed out.

Alan opened his eyes and shook his left hand in disgust.

Then he pushed himself halfway upright and quickly undid the restraint around his right wrist.

Drenched in sweat, he was just about to free his ankles when something suddenly felt wrong.

“...What are these two things?”

Alan looked down at the inconvenient bulges on his chest and fell silent.

She cautiously pulled open the thin hospital gown, glanced inside, then immediately closed it again.

Several seconds of strange silence followed.

Then she decided there were more important things to deal with.

After undoing the restraints around her ankles, Alan staggered off the bed.

Her entire body felt so weak and numb that walking was almost impossible.

So she simply sat down on the floor.

A chill immediately shot through her backside.

She looked around.

The room resembled a private, fully enclosed culture room.

Various pieces of laboratory equipment sat on movable metal racks, along with one or two rows of reagent bottles.

There was nothing else.

Alan fixed her eyes on one of the racks and dragged herself over with considerable effort.

Reaching up, she took a syringe from the shelf.

The cold surface sent a strange chill through her palm and across her entire body.

“I’m way too weak... Hopefully this helps.”

The syringe was labeled “antibody.”

Without hesitation, Alan injected it into her forearm.

The sting made her grimace, but she endured it until the entire dose had been injected before pulling the needle free.

Looking at the puncture wound on her forearm, which stubbornly refused to stop bleeding, Alan could only sigh.

Still, the antibody worked.

Her body continued to feel awful, but the crushing weakness slowly began to ease.

Once she had regained some strength, Alan went over to the unconscious researcher and stripped off his lab coat, clothes, gas mask, and the pants that had somehow escaped being soiled.

She had originally considered setting him straight, but realized she didn’t have enough strength and gave up.

Then, with some difficulty, she put on all the clothes and the gas mask.

After standing up, Alan gave one final look at the researcher on the floor, who looked halfway dead by now.

She swiped his access card, unlocked the door, and left the culture room.

With the gas mask covering her face, Alan could at least avoid exposing herself the moment she stepped outside.

Her legs, however, felt like they had never learned how to walk.

Every step came out awkward and twisted, almost like some kind of folk dance.

She had no choice but to move slowly along the wall while doing her best to appear normal.

After finally managing to walk a short distance in something resembling a normal fashion, fatigue began to show.

And naturally, that was when she ran into someone.

“Are you all right?”

Carla stopped and looked at Alan, who was leaning against the wall and clearly struggling to move.

“Hm?”

Simmons, standing beside her, gave Alan a suspicious glance.

He looked her over a few times and was about to ask something when Carla had already stepped forward to support her.

“Simmons, I’ll take this researcher to the infirmary. You go ahead.

“Didn’t you say you had something important to take care of first?”

Simmons nodded.

“All right. Once you get this researcher there, hurry to the conference room.

“We can’t have you missing today’s meeting.”

“I know. I’ll be there...

“Come on. Let me help you.”

“...Thanks.”

Oh, she’s a woman?

Why is her voice so hoarse?

Carla supported Alan, somewhat surprised.

Judging by the clothes, she had assumed the researcher was a man.

Apparently not.

Through the narrow lenses of the gas mask, Alan looked at Carla beside her.

So she was probably inside one of Simmons’s research facilities.

And she had just happened to run into someone she knew.

“You’re really light, and you look terrible. Also... why are you still wearing that gas mask?

“That can’t be comfortable. Let me take it off.”

“...Wait!”

Before Alan could refuse, Carla had already turned toward her.

Alan instinctively struggled, forcing Carla to use a little more strength.

In the confusion, Carla accidentally shoved her against the wall, and her own hand struck it as well.

“What are you doing...? That hurt.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

Before Alan could finish, an annoyed Carla pulled off her gas mask.

“Seriously, I’m trying to help you! You...?”

Alan’s heart tightened when Carla abruptly stopped speaking.

She had met Carla before.

But back then, Alan had still been a man.

And since she was apparently an experimental subject now, there was always the possibility Carla had already recognized her.

Carla stared at Alan’s nervous expression, as though she had just been caught doing something wrong, and blinked.

“Did you run a marathon or something? Why is your face covered in sweat?”

“Uh... I’m just feeling really weak.”

“Never mind. Let’s get you to the infirmary first.”

Seeing how miserable Alan looked, Carla temporarily set aside her questions.

As Carla supported her again, Alan quietly breathed a sigh of relief while doing her best to keep anyone else from seeing her face.

Apparently, Carla hadn’t been involved in whatever experiment had been performed on her.

At least that was one piece of good luck in an otherwise terrible situation.

Now she needed to think carefully.

How was she going to escape from this hellhole?

And why the hell had she ended up like this?