Chapter 5: Is It Plausible?

As soon as the explosion rocked the institute, Francis rushed to the blast site, trailed by a dozen guards armed with fire extinguishers. They worked frantically to smother the spreading flames as Francis, face dark with anger, assessed the scene.

Barely a few steps in, he noticed something amiss. One of the oxygen chambers, where Wade had been kept, was wide open—and Wade was gone. A chill crept up Francis's spine.

Suddenly, a figure lunged out from the thick smoke, charging straight at the guards stationed along the perimeter. With a shard of broken glass in his hand, the figure slashed one guard's throat. Blood sprayed as the guard, clutching his neck in shock, staggered before collapsing.

It was Wade.

Naked, his skin a mottled, scarred mess that looked like it had been dipped in acid, Wade's disfigured face turned to Francis. His eyes gleamed with fury.

"Francis!" Wade spat, his voice a rasp of pure hatred.

Just as Ethan had hoped, Francis's relentless abuse had pushed Wade to his limits. Francis had subjected Wade to constant hypoxia, trapping him in an oxygen chamber and torturing him beyond human endurance. But the abuse had also inadvertently activated the serum in Wade's system, granting him extraordinary healing powers and freeing him from his cancer. The cost, however, was a horrifyingly disfigured appearance that Wade could barely accept.

In a final act of rebellion, Wade had stolen a match and ignited the flammable chemicals nearby, causing the massive explosion that ravaged the lab. And now, instead of fleeing, he'd waited for Francis to show up.

Francis's face twisted in recognition. "So, it was you."

Without missing a beat, he barked an order at his guards. "Shoot! Kill him!"

But Wade was faster. In a swift, practiced motion, he grabbed a rifle from one of the fallen guards, flicked off the safety, and fired. His movements were seamless, almost reflexive, honed by years as a top mercenary.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The shots rang out, each bullet finding its mark in the heads of three guards, their skulls bursting in mid-air. Stunned, the remaining guards faltered. Wade took advantage of their hesitation, firing off more rounds and dropping two more guards before the others managed to react.

The guards returned fire, bullets shredding the air as they sprayed the area without aim.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!

Wade rolled out of sight, using the smoke-filled chaos to his advantage, firing back with precision as he moved. His skill as a mercenary shone through in the intense firefight, his every move calculated, every shot aimed to kill.

Meanwhile, Francis crouched behind the remains of a shattered instrument, hiding instead of joining the fray. He seemed to be waiting for something, watching the battle with a strange patience.

In the middle of the firefight, footsteps echoed through the smoke. Francis glanced up to see a dusty guard climb over the wreckage and plop down beside him, a rifle clutched in his hands. The guard looked around nervously before noticing Francis's gaze.

Their eyes met. The air grew tense.

Ethan mentally cursed his luck. He'd been trying to find the exit when he stumbled into the heart of the firefight. Watching Wade's brutal takedown of the guards, Ethan quickly sought cover, only to realize, to his horror, that he'd taken shelter right next to Francis.

Francis squinted at him, evidently mistaking Ethan for one of his guards. "What are you doing here?"

Realizing he hadn't been recognized, Ethan improvised, lowering his voice to sound as deferential as possible. "It's too dangerous out there. I thought I'd stick close… you know, to protect you."

"I don't need protection," Francis replied coldly.

Ethan nodded enthusiastically. "Right, then you can protect me."

Francis's expression faltered. "???"

It was rare for Francis to be rendered speechless. He was used to subordinates pledging to protect him, but for one to ask him for protection? Unthinkable!

"Is this… plausible!?" Francis growled, suspicion growing. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you, really?"

Ethan smirked, meeting Francis's glare with a confident gaze. "What I know, I know. What I don't, won't help either of us."

Francis's eyes widened in realization, his voice a low hiss. "It's you!"

The tone, the mysterious answers—it could only be this elusive troublemaker, the one who always seemed one step ahead.