Chapter 61: Police Department.

Director Bud retrieved a thick stack of documents from the safe and handed them to Malrick.

"These are most of the key experimental data, along with the research process and conclusions. Do you plan to restart the research with this?"

Malrick took the 30-centimeter-thick stack and began flipping through it on the spot.

He said calmly, "No. I'll finish reading it now, then head to Umbrella's underground lab to continue improvements."

"Finish reading it now?" Bud thought that would take days, if not weeks.

But the way Malrick "read" instantly stunned him.

It wasn't reading—wasn't even skimming.

Malrick lifted the edge of the stack and let the pages slide through his fingers like a deck of cards.

Within seconds, the entire document had been "shuffled."

Then he closed his eyes and, after a few seconds, shoved the papers back into Bud's hands.

"Burn them."

"Uh… what?" Bud blinked, eyes bouncing between the documents and Malrick's calm face.

"I said I've read and memorized them," Malrick said, still with his eyes closed.

"But… didn't you flip through them backwards?"

Bud didn't even bother questioning the idea of memorizing such a thick document in seconds. The page-flipping direction alone was enough to break his logic.

"Just memorize the text and reverse the page numbers in your head. It's easy," Malrick said coolly.

Bud's mouth opened, then shut.

He didn't know if he should believe it or question reality. All he could do was nod and take the documents to be burned.

He told himself:

This guy was probably sent by fate to save the world. A few strange abilities are the least of it.

Malrick remained still, eyes closed—not to be dramatic, but because something had happened the moment he absorbed the data.

As he processed the information, he noticed something strange: his mind became incredibly sharp, especially when thinking about biochemical technology.

His brain's processing speed hadn't changed.

But his understanding—his talent—had leveled up drastically in this field.

The moment he recalled the data, new ideas kept flooding in.

"So this is the gift... Definitely the kind of enhancement I needed."

Now he understood.

The gift given to him by the world's will was a significant boost to his research abilities in biochemistry.

In Resident Evil terms, his talent now rivaled the likes of William Birkin, Alexia Ashford, and James Marcus.

But unlike them, Malrick had a super brain.

They had genius—but he had genius and god-tier memory.

In terms of inspiration and raw creativity, they were on equal footing.

But in terms of execution? They couldn't come close.

Once the documents were burned, Malrick opened his eyes.

"Anything else you need?" Bud asked quickly.

"Bring me all the T-virus samples and vaccines you've got. It's time to move."

He raised his voice toward the doorway: "Jarvis!"

Jarvis, piloting the Super Mark I armor, had been mowing down infected throughout the hospital, from the ground floor all the way up.

Most of the zombies here were already cleared.

"Jarvis—is he a companion of yours?" Bud asked cautiously.

"We're partners. You'll see."

About thirty seconds later, the ceiling exploded from a blast above, and the armored suit crashed through, landing in a kneeling pose before Malrick.

Malrick frowned. Why the hell is Tony's superhero landing such a family tradition?

"An exosuit?!" Bud was overwhelmed. He barely stayed upright.

"This is my AI, Jarvis. If you need help, ask him."

Malrick placed the virus samples and vaccines into a secure case and handed it off to Jarvis. Then, without warning, he grabbed Bud by the collar.

"We're going to the Raccoon City Police Department."

Before Bud could even scream, Malrick shot into the sky with Jarvis flying beside him.

Seconds later, they hovered above the Raccoon City Police Department. Jarvis lagged behind, finishing off some remaining threats a few kilometers away.

Bud was still in shock, his screams echoing below.

"Would you stop yelling? We're here," Malrick grumbled, shaking his collar.

Bud screamed even louder, legs dangling in the air.

Down below, zombies surrounding the police station paused, heads jerking at the sound.

Malrick ignored him and switched to x-ray vision.

Inside the station, it was a bloodbath.

Corpses and undead filled the rooms.

The Raccoon City Police Department had responded quickly when the outbreak started three days ago, on September 25. They'd set up shelters, helped civilians, and even rigged streets with explosives.

Their efforts had reduced the initial zombie wave and gave survivors a fighting chance.

But there was a cost—very few officers remained.

Their lack of knowledge about the T-virus had doomed them.

Some refugees were already infected. The infection spread inside, and the station was swarmed from within and without.

Now, under Malrick's vision, only five people were still alive in the building.

One of them was the corrupt Chief Brian Irons.

During his time in charge, Irons had taken bribes from Umbrella, concealed evidence, and even ran an orphanage beside the station to funnel children into illegal experiments.

Malrick hated him.

He didn't hesitate.

Twin beams of red heat vision shot through the walls, boring holes in Irons' chest and pinning him to his leather couch.

Chief Irons had been fiddling with the mayor's daughter's corpse—his next twisted "specimen."

He never saw it coming.

His chest burst open with seared holes, and he collapsed face-first onto the table, dead before he could make a sound.

Just then, Jarvis caught up.

Bud, dangling in Malrick's grip, looked down at the station's gates.

"We're… we're here?! The Raccoon City Police Department?!"

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