Chapter 37: Fusion Experiment

For the next three days, Lucius remained focused on testing the new abilities he had gained.

He vacated Ophelia's body and took over that of a poor soul—a man left in a vegetative state after an accident.

There were two reasons for this change. First, Ophelia possessed a formidable will, having undergone anti-hypnosis training, making her highly resistant to foreign influences on her mind. Someone with such a sharp and resolute psyche would eventually detect his presence.

Second, Lucius discovered that the longer he stayed within Ophelia, the more her body underwent strange mutations. Although her body did not reject these changes—likely due to being parasitized by the "Emperor Strain"—subtle signs of transformation had already appeared: her skin grew paler, her nails thickened and began to grow at an unnatural rate.

This was because the new virus had shifted from a brutal takeover to a slower, adaptive reconfiguration. In Resident Evil canon, Alexia Ashford spent over a decade in cryostasis to achieve her transformation into the Queen Veronica. But Ophelia had no such cold environment. If Lucius remained in her, her body would soon turn greenish, develop hardened chitinous armor, and possibly gain the ability to release pheromones like an insect queen.

Reluctant to ruin such a valuable host, Lucius suppressed the mutation process and withdrew the Emperor Strain from her body.

Lucius drove to the southern edge of Cerulean City, pulling up before an auto repair shop.

Sprawled before the garage entrance lay a Grimer, its putrid, violet sludge-like body oozing a nauseating stench.

He chuckled softly. A proper repair shop wouldn't use a Grimer as a greeter. Who would dare approach with that stench driving customers away?

This was no ordinary shop but the headquarters of a notorious biker gang—far from the harmless, experience-farming thugs of the Pokémon games. This gang was a real criminal syndicate, extorting protection money, looting, and terrorizing the streets.

The body Lucius currently occupied belonged to Scott, a once-ordinary office worker. A hard-working man, he toiled from dawn to dusk to support his parents, wife, and child.

But a month ago, Scott's life shattered. After working late into the night, he was ambushed by the biker gang on his way home. Though he once dreamed of becoming a Pokémon Trainer and had traveled with his Pokémon companion, adulthood and a grueling career had long dulled his battling skills.

The gang showed no mercy. Their studded leather, roaring motorcycles, and iron fists descended on him. They crushed him and his loyal Pokémon, robbed them of everything, and left them for dead in the freezing street.

By the time they reached the hospital, Scott was declared brain-dead—reduced to a hollow husk. His beloved Pokémon, battered and broken, didn't survive the night.

Lucius rested a hand on the dashboard, murmuring, "Scott... I thank you for your contribution. Since I now use your body... rest assured, I will exact justice for you."

With a subtle thought, he released a tendril of the Emperor Strain—an invisible viral thread—that shot into Grimer. He remained seated, watching the scene unfold through the windshield.

Suddenly, Grimer's glazed-over eyes snapped wide open. Its sludge body convulsed violently, warping into grotesque shapes as it began vomiting foul green slime in thick spurts.

Lucius turned his head aside, expression twisted in distaste. Ugh... If Grimer wasn't disgusting enough already, now it's puking toxic bile...

This is what you'd call 'next-level disgusting.'

Fortunately, the horrific display lasted only moments before Grimer ceased its spasms.

"Fascinating..." Lucius muttered, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he observed the mutated Grimer.

Its once deep-violet sludge had darkened to a deep, venomous green, radiating a far more sinister toxicity. From its putrid mass emerged sharp, insectile spikes—jagged and writhing like the legs of a monstrous centipede.

Huh... It almost looks like an Alolan Grimer, he noted, but... spikier.

Checking its attributes, Lucius found its HP, Attack, and Defense had all undergone a significant boost. The mutation had even granted it a new move: Toxic Flame—a skill imbued by the virus itself.

Yet, he observed that the virus's fusion with Grimer was shallow, barely reaching 20%. The only reason it survived was due to Grimer's nature as the Sludge Pokémon, an organism already defined by adaptability and resilience. Otherwise, the transformation would have shredded it apart.

Not bad...

Lucius felt it clearly: as the source of the Emperor Strain, he held absolute dominance over this mutated Grimer. It was as if the creature had become a marionette, its strings tightly wrapped around his will. One thought could command its every move—no resistance possible.

"Go ahead," he ordered through a release of pheromones—a hallmark of the virus's insectile influence. "Give your master and his friends... a little surprise."

Grimer's lifeless eyes flashed with eerie intelligence as it slithered forward, leaving a sizzling, toxic trail on the asphalt. Any creature foolish enough to taste the sludge would meet instant death.

From within the repair shop erupted a chorus of panic and confusion:

"Wh-What is that monster?!"

"Grimer...?! Is that you?! What... happened to you?!"

"Stop! It's me—your Trainer!"

"Golbat, block it!"

"Meowth, use—ahhh!"

Lucius reclined in his seat, listening with amusement as the din of battle turned to agony—metallic crashes replaced by anguished screams.

Minutes later, silence reigned.

He stepped inside. Broken bodies littered the floor—humans and Pokémon alike, crushed and broken. None had escaped; Lucius had ordered Grimer to cripple their legs first, ensuring no survivors would flee.

A hulking brute, his mohawk dyed a glaring pink, clutched his pierced thigh, glaring at Lucius with bloodshot eyes. "Who... the hell... are you?!"

Lucius' lips curled faintly. "Quite the spirit you have."

Without another word, he unleashed the Emperor Strain—this time with no restraints.

The virus rampaged through the brute's body. A guttural scream tore from the man's throat as his flesh contorted, bones cracked, and muscles rippled out of control.

"Boss!"

"Boss, what's happening?!"

"You bastard! What did you do to him?!"

"You mother—! @$#%&!"

The gang members cursed and spat, their bodies broken but their voices burning with fury.

Lucius ignored them. He watched impassively as their 'boss' writhed in agony—his skin bursting open, sinews twisting wildly. Jagged bone spines erupted from his flesh, his tongue extended grotesquely, dragging on the floor, now meters long. From his chest sprouted a horrific, malformed third limb.

With a final, blood-curdling scream, the man shed his own skin, the steaming red tissue beneath glistening in the dim light.

The room, filled moments ago with screams and rage... fell deathly silent.

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