WTR-LABLibraryNovelsRankingLeaderboardThe Showdown Begins with Resident EvilCh. 342 / 43778.3%#342Chapter 342AI Model: kimi-k2-instruct-0905
Flesh can never match steel in hardness; if steel can be blown apart, what chance does a bio-weapon stand?
The bombers dropped their payloads ton by ton. Vienna City is a famous tourist spot; no matter how terrible the devastation, it was still better than resorting to a nuke.
The impotent William kept roaring, until he was finally blasted to pieces.
His head landed on the floor of an office tower—an empty, silent place.
With only a head left, William still clung to life, eyes fixed ahead.
Eddie strolled up, cigarette in hand. "Long time no see, scrub. Look at yourself—how pathetic can you get?"
"Eddie Cai! You trash, you animal!" William howled; hard to imagine how a lone head could still shout.
"Heard you've been looking for me and Annette? No need—Annette's right at my place, practically my wife. She even gave me a daughter, Chelsea: pretty, obedient. Don't worry, I'll take good care of Annette and Sherry, I swear! Oh, and Annette and I are trying for number two—no congratulations needed." Eddie squatted, blowing smoke rings, a cheap grin plastered on his face.
"You… cur! Beast!" Only now did William realize that sending his wife to stall Eddie had been delivering the lamb to the wolf. Regret gnawed at him, especially after Eddie's words.
William couldn't take it; blood gushed from his mouth, eyes bulging, dying with grievance written across his face.
Chapter 548: Carla and Ada on the Same Stage
William's death stirred no feeling in Eddie; it only shortened his hit-list by one name.
Eddie offered the corpse no respect. A twist of his right hand twisted the magnetic field; William's head dissolved into dust, sparks crackling—he was gone.
With William disposed of, Eddie felt lighter. From now on Annette could shop the pedestrian street without worry.
The only obstacle—William—was dead, and Sherry's hatred wouldn't be an issue; that had always been Eddie's plan.
Back in the temporary lab. Nobody knew Eddie had left except his pillow-talk companions, Jill and Hilda.
Jill never asked what Eddie did; as long as everything looked normal, she kept silent.
Vienna City's disaster was on pause, but the mastermind behind William remained hidden; only fragments of rumor had surfaced.
Three days later, on Goddess Island, Eddie sun-bathed and sipped coconut juice. Beside him, long-absent Annette lounged in the sun, languid; ever since William died her mood had soared.
"William was technically killed by me; a sliver of consciousness lingered, so I finished it," Eddie said suddenly.
Annette merely lit a cigarette with practiced ease, exhaled. "I don't care. I'm your wife, not his. Whatever you do, I back you, darling—unconditional trust."
"Thanks. Love you." Eddie turned, beaming sunshine.
Annette's lips curved seductively. "Love you too, hubby."
Chelsea bounced over with a volleyball. "Ugh, stop flaunting your love—come play beach volleyball. Sherry, over here—let's play, hehe."
Ada and Sienna also brought their daughters back to Goddess Island—fitting, since they were all goddesses.
A phone rang. Ada opened it to a video of a man utterly infatuated with her, shouting a break-up to his fiancée.
Carla's smug voice followed: "This face truly leaves men spellbound. Imagine having two celestial beauties—what lucky bastard gets that?"
Ada dialed back. "Play your games, but stop using my name to stir trouble."
Carla sniffed. "I'm me—who even knows Ada? The name I gave was Carla Radames!"
Ada seemed to think of something. "When are you coming back?"
The moment she asked, Carla stood before her—identical in face, only the clothes different; no one could tell.
Ada's daughter Jordana frowned. "You're not Mom—you're Dad's favorite type."
Carla brushed her sleek bob. "What type?"
"The mistress type." Jordana nodded candidly.
Carla was speechless. "Are you insulting me?"
Jordana shook her head. "No insult. Dad adores that type—you'll probably need a strong kidney."
Ada and Carla blushed; these daughters were blunt, candid—and oddly adorable.
Soon Carla and Ada strolled to the beach chatting; both were razor-sharp women.
Handling the less-seasoned Carla was child's play for Ada; in three sentences they were BFFs secure against any back-stabbing.
Meanwhile, in Tall Oaks of the Western Federation, life rolled on—eat, drink, be merry.
Inside a family council, Simmons glared as Kaplando rejoined the fold.
Leveraging BSAA's clout, Kaplando now appeared everywhere, back in the family. No threat to Simmons, but a constant irritant.
"I'm busy. Spit it out. Don't tell me this meeting is just to welcome you back?" Simmons grumped, puffing a cigar.
Kaplando wagged an index finger, theatrically. "No—today I gift the family a golden ticket, a chance to meddle in world security."
"Then say it." Simmons was irked; Carla had left. Even if he couldn't taste, the view had been nice—now gone.
Moves against Eddie were futile; the man stayed off the profit grid. President Benford wouldn't allow it either—targeting Eddie would shatter current medical welfare and spark civil unrest.
As security adviser Simmons knew he had to swallow it. He'd crafted an Ada only to hand her away; worshipping her as a goddess, yet giving her up—his own blasphemy.
Kaplando clapped. A tall man in shades and trench-coat stepped out—Albert Wesker, back from absence.
"Brandon and Spencer aren't enemies; they may even join forces to develop new viruses. At ninety, Brandon keeps the stamina of fifty, thanks to the Uroboros Virus."
"Your longevity scheme is actually Spencer and Brandon's—but theirs has a prettier name: the Immortality Project!"
"Found Umbrella, cook up viruses—all for immortality. Bio-weapons are just spin-offs; Spencer used them for cash. Find Brandon and you get what you want!" Wesker spoke, now more reserved, dreaming only of revenge on the two old hounds Spencer and Brandon.
Simmons twisted the ring on his finger, weighing truth in the words.
"What do you want?" real-estate tycoon Zhirodo asked.
Wesker smiled; no one could guess his desire: "Redemption."
"What?" Kaplando played bewildered perfectly.
"Redemption. Time to reform Umbrella—forge Blue Umbrella Corporation, wage war on global bio-weapons, vow to wipe out the last one, give the world peace—and give myself redemption!" Wesker declared solemnly.
Chapter 549: Excella's Grandmother
It sounded impossible, yet Wesker felt the idea worth a shot—if it worked, he'd be reborn whiter than snow.