Chapter 27: Seeds of New Empire
The custom-made commercial version of the T-virus, as its name suggests, is a strain specifically designed to avoid the excessive and dangerous properties of the progenitor virus.
Unlike its original form, this version does not turn individuals into zombies. Instead, it has been adapted for medical applications and the development of other commercial products derived from the T-virus.
Of course, these commercial products do not involve BOWs (Bio-Organic Weapons), as those are engineered using the virus's zombifying properties. Instead, the commercial T-virus offers opportunities for creating medicines and other beneficial innovations.
Moreover, the T-virus does not exist in the Marvel Universe, which means Max could potentially monopolize its usage, provided he remains the only one with access to the original strain and the formula to replicate it.
However, like all product development processes, creating medicines or other applications requires extensive data and experimentation. For now, Max possesses only the virus strain and the formula to produce more if necessary—nothing more.
Max smiled as he idly twirled the tube of the virus in his hands before carefully slipping it back into his spatial backpack.
Leaning back in his chair, he allowed himself a moment to reflect on his journey through the Resident Evil world and the reward he had secured.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, making his eyelids feel unbearably heavy.
He exhaled deeply, the tension leaving his body now that he was finally in a safe and comfortable environment.
The strain of all the physical exertion he'd endured coursed through his veins, reminding him of how much he'd pushed himself.
With nothing immediate to worry about and no looming threats, Max's body begged for rest.
Yet, he held on a little longer, reasoning that it would be better to think about the future and the applications of the T-virus after a proper, deep sleep—not slouched in the study, but in the comfort of his soft bed.
Yawning, he stood up, rubbing his eyes as he made his way toward his room, leaving the study untouched.
Once there, he threw himself onto the bed, the soft mattress enveloping him as he sank into its comfort.
As vision blurred, and within moments, he drifted off into a deep sleep. Whether he dreamed of returning to his original world or living a life of success was hard to elaborate—but the dreams were pleasant and untroubled this time.
Meanwhile, as Max slept—well before the sun had fully set—Martha entered the study, intending to check on him.
She knocked gently on the door before stepping inside when she received no answer, only to find the desk scattered with documents but no sign of Max.
Concerned, she decided to look for him in his room.
Without hesitation, she walked toward his door and knocked softly.
When there was no response, she carefully opened it. Her nerves settled the moment she spotted Max lying soundly asleep on the bed.
Quietly, she approached, her steps light, and stood by his bedside, gazing softly at his peaceful, resting face.
She looked around, pulled out a blanket, and gently draped it over him.
With a soft smile, she brushed his hair aside and lightly patted his head.
"It must've been tough with all these responsibilities weighing on you," she murmured. "Have a good sleep—may your dreams bring you comfort and strength."
Deciding not to wake him for dinner, she noticed how tense his shoulders felt while covering him with the blanket.
He likely wouldn't wake up anytime soon. Quietly, she left the room, softly closing the door, her eyes lingering on his sleeping face until it was out of view.
As she stepped into the hallway, Martha saw Lily tidying up the kitchen, seemingly wrapping up her tasks for the day.
When their eyes met, the maid, Lily, spoke up, "Madam, Master Max asked for some biscuits after lunch. I thought you should know—he doesn't snack often, so he might not eat dinner tonight if he's full."
Martha nodded in understanding and waved her off. "You can leave for the day. I don't feel like eating either, so there's no need to worry about dinner. If all your tasks are done, go home and rest."
"As you wish, madam," Lily replied with a polite nod before enthusiastically hurrying out of the place.
Martha shook her head, amused at the maid's youthful energy.
Despite being married, she still carried herself with a touch of childish recklessness.
' Whatever,' Martha thought, brushing the matter aside as she turned her attention to checking the garden and overseeing other maintenance tasks required around the mansion.
As she walked toward the garden, the elderly gardener, Marco, approached her, a box of materials cradled in his arms.
His white hair framed his weathered face, and his beard, though bushy, was neatly groomed. Upon noticing her, he quickened his pace, clearly intent on speaking with her.
"Madam," Marco began respectfully, "Sir Victor sent a man with these items for Master Max."
Martha's gaze fell on the box. Nodding, she replied, "Leave them with me."
Without hesitation, Marco handed her the box and returned to his duties. Martha stood still for a moment, watching him walk away before glancing down at the materials in her hands.
She sighed, her thoughts turning to Max. "More work for him," she muttered under her breath.
She wanted to ease his burdens, but there was little she could do beyond her usual efforts.
Resolutely, she carried the box to the study, setting it down before leaving the room.
She decided to tell Max about it once he woke up.
Meanwhile, Max remained blissfully unaware of the happenings around the house. His sleep was deep and peaceful—better than he had experienced in a long time.
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