How to NOT Biohazard 1 (Patreon)

How to NOT Biohazard 1 - or ‘I am the one handling the money, so my plans have some relevance’ (Resident Evil UmbrellaExec!SI)

When I was ‘reborn’ within a time that was before my own, I have to say that I didn’t expect to be sent into a world similar yet different to my original one.

As an orphan child of 1962, I was one of those babies born during the height of the Cold War and… at the right time to eventually be found when I started to make the best of my life. Studying a lot, making a few relevant acquaintances and, not before too long I found myself scouted by an agent that was following instructions by one Lord Oswell E. Spencer.

Yes, the founder of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals in the Resident Evil Franchise. The reason why I was ‘noticed’ was tied to some interesting moves I made. At eight I had gone through highschool and rushed to bypass it to college. I wouldn’t say that I was trying to be a dick by exploiting my previous life’s knowledge, but I knew that I needed to make money fast or become a potential target of the ensuing economic crises waiting around the corner.

Rushing my studies enabled me to ultimately get into stock exchanges. I had wasted nights of my previous high school experience studying the rise of some companies, so I knew which companies to favor to others. So, while many would think that I was planning to take the ‘deal’ out of economic needs was a lie.

Lord Spencer was roughly in his late 40s when he found me in 1972. At the age of ten, he offered me guardianship and scholarships. He was intrigued by the one thing that his ambitions lacked when it came to ‘changing the world’ - someone that was reliable in handling funds and making sure that no unneeded expenses were made.

I became a sort of ‘son’ to him, albeit not in a legal sense of it through the chances of heirship and anything else that would make me eligible for his legacy. To some this may be a precautionary step to prevent me from trying to eventually stage an assassination once I am of age, but the truth was different: Oswell craved for godhood, and thus the creation of an heir would just put his plans into jeopardy.

Which is why I decided to be a bit of a brat when he first met me. I was ten, I wasn’t supposed to hit hard, but you don’t need fancy words to get a major reaction from such a man. I knew his goals, his dream, and I knew what really frightened him.

He was quite forward about this. Mostly because the room meant for future parents to interview was occupied just by the two of us. He had a ‘grandfatherly’ expression, and he spoke bluntly. He wanted someone that could handle the economic side of his ideas, someone that he could ‘build’ to trust.

I saw the hook, and decided to go for it. Not because I wanted to be eaten, but because I could eat him back the moment he didn’t expect it. I would say that Spencer himself was a cruel monster even before he went full senile. He praised Mother Miranda’s doctrine on virology, yet he wanted to genuinely ‘improve humanity’ rather than engage in selfishness just yet.

Early on, this was just a matter of true will to make the difference, but it would soon be tarnished by his own narcissistic attitude and his desire to be seen as the one to make it happen. It would then be less about making the chance, and more about being praised for doing so.

Which is why I hit him there, right where he was exposed the most.

“If you were to die before that, who would make that come true?”

The question seemingly had the intended effect. He was shaken, albeit in a restrained manner. I couldn’t blame it at all- this Spencer was long before he tried to become a ‘greedy god’ with his research due to his senility.

He was still capable to know that this mortality of his could be resolved in two manners - either by rushing researches and fucking up somehow, or… by letting someone he could trust in being a faithful second-in-command that would help him fasten up his dreams.

It wasn’t something that could be enforced in his mind in a day or a week, but I took dedication in using one of my best masks possible to trick him. By appearing gifted and yet ambitionless. I would appear to him like a dog, but one with enough tricks to keep him entertaining and wanting for more of what I could offer him.

I couldn’t be hired in Umbrella early on due to my young age, but I became his apprentice and started to follow him around in his ventures from time to time if I was not busy with the Umbrella Executive Training School’s studies. The Spencer Manor in the Arklay Mountains was already built, with George Trevor’s family already being tested there since 1967.

Oswell thought it a good idea to subject me to the sights of the virus mutation by ‘introducing’ me to what happened to Lisa Trevor. It was 1978 and Lisa’s conditions had long deteriorated to the point where she had been strapped to a bed with chains for further tests.

This is where I got introduced to William Birkin. We were both around the same age, Birkin having been hired as an ‘apprentice researcher’ under Dr. James Marcus since 15 and had been made Chief Researcher of the Manor just earlier this year.

He was quite welcoming, but mostly because he understood I handled the budget he was working with and… he introduced me to Lisa. There’s much to say about this case, but beyond the moral horror behind her origins as a test subject, the results produced by Birkin were… quite good.

At least, based on Spencer’s reaction to those. He looked pleased, but I decided to play the ‘bad cop’ in this instance as I wanted to know one thing that Spencer wouldn’t ask, being the one trying to still save up money for other viable experiments.

“Is there any request you would like to make in regard to your current budget?” I inquired calmly, papers with notes and numbers already at hand together with a black pen.

“I… I suppose better computers would be appreciated. We are currently using systems that are obsolete as ten years now- Lord Spencer, I am not trying to demand much but-”

“Research requires excellence. It is nothing to be ashamed to ask for new equipment when it is needed,” Oswell remarked curtly, interjecting the young researcher but frowning over the topic. “My apologies, William, but couldn’t you just have mentioned this in one of the reports you have to regularly send to me?”

That query had me pause for a moment, confusion flashing from my eyes as I saw Birkin look a bit stunned by this comment.

“That’s… Sir, I was- I was told that it would have been disrespectful to make a request through a report.”

I tensed up a bit, mostly out of surprise than anything else. “Who?”

“My predecessor-”

“Ah yes, that explains many things and… William?” Oswell hummed.

“Y-Yes sir?”

“You are allowed to ask for equipment or any other improvements you find necessary. Obviously, we can’t have all those requests fulfilled, but I am sure my apprentice here shall assist you with this endeavor.”

I nodded in agreement and smiled at William. “We want this research to go as smoothly as possible and if these improvements would genuinely increase success rates and the speed rate at which you can gain insight on the experiments, then it’s a worthwhile investment for the company.”

It was a productive visit, and it allowed for funds to be dispatched to lessen issues within the manor’s facility. And with my good handling of money in that regard, Spencer made some allusions to me being finally given the means to deal with things at Raccoon City such as investments or ‘people of relevance’.

In 1979, I was finally hired. The reason why it took me one to two extra years to be fully accepted was tied to my position as an executive within the company. Spencer wanted me to be fully accepted by the rest of the higher-ups and my first week was pretty much a test after test.

Between the judging glances, some extra work that I am quite sure I didn’t warrant and a general sense of irritation with the workplace’s hostility, I found some relief when Oswell asked me to join him for a ‘courtesy visit’ to an old friend of his. I wasn’t told much, but my mind perfectly knew what was up when I heard our destination.

Rockfort Island, where the Ashford Family had made its residence and…

Where I met quite the-

“Who are you, mister?” A young child with blonde hair and pretty eyes asked, holding tightly to her chest a penguin plushie.

A devil in the form of a little girl.

“My name is John Bukharin. Nice to meet you, Alexia.”

—-----d-d-d-d—--------

AN

Alexia is a smart cookie, promiscuous to a degree, and outrageously mesugaki-like in her rich background.

But John knows how to handle this sort of threat. Oh, and her twin brother too.