Chapter 4: Success

Wade was gone.

Even tens of meters away, Paul could still hear Wade's exaggerated laughter, nearly dying from amusement.

Along with Wade, Francis, looking like he had swallowed something unpleasant, also walked away.

Wade had not lowered his voice. Whether guard or test subject, everyone in the hall had heard him loud and clear. 

Watching Francis leave, Paul secretly heaved a sigh of relief, having narrowly avoided detection. Fortunately, Wade had distracted Francis, allowing Paul to escape scrutiny.

Thinking of this, Paul silently prayed for Wade's well-being. Hopefully, he would be alright.

…

Time at the institute seemed particularly long.

Paul lay on the hospital bed, staying as alert as possible, fearing he might miss the crucial moment. In this closed and dark environment, there was no concept of time. So Paul didn't know exactly how long he had been waiting.

After Wade left, Paul had been waiting for his only chance.

Suddenly, there was a shock in the hall, and a deafening explosion sounded in everyone's ears!

Before anyone could react, a scorching wave swept through the hall, accompanied by a terrifying shockwave!

Paul saw a flash of fire, and a tremendous force threw him across the room. He landed heavily on the ground with the shattered remains of the hospital bed beneath him. The force sent him tumbling to the corner of the hall, where he finally stopped.

Paul's body was covered with burns, most of his hospital gown destroyed by the flames. His exposed skin was full of burns, and an unknown number of bones were broken.

If it were a normal person, these injuries would have been fatal. But Paul, thanks to his "Super High School Stuntman" trait, stood up, trembling. The charred skin on his body began to rapidly heal, and the bleeding from his wounds stopped. In a few breaths, all the horrific injuries disappeared without a trace.

"Success!" Paul was ecstatic. He didn't care about the fire-ravaged hall. His escape plan had been simple: advance the plot to give Wade the self-healing factor early, blow up the lab, and create a chance to escape. Clearly, his plan had succeeded!

…

The explosion was sudden and brief, but it left the hall in chaos, with debris scattered everywhere. Screams and cries for help filled the air. Charred corpses and bound experimental subjects were everywhere. The fire spread quickly, lighting up the room with an orange glow and filling the air with a peculiar smell that made Paul cough.

Covering his mouth and nose, Paul ran out of the hall, ignoring the flames. The heat around him was rising rapidly, making it hard to breathe. Every step felt like walking on hot coals. Without his immortality, he wouldn't have lasted two minutes in this fire.

Suddenly, Paul saw a figure in the smoke. It was a guard, clutching his injured right arm and struggling against the wall. The guard noticed Paul and, seeing his broken hospital gown, was taken aback.

"Wait, you're—"

"Shut up!" Paul raised his fist and struck the guard's head with all his strength. The guard fell to the ground, and Paul let out a grunt as his dislocated phalanges began to repair automatically.

While the guard lay helpless, Paul kicked him in the head repeatedly. The guard tried to struggle, but Paul didn't give him a chance. Kick after brutal kick followed until the guard's movements ceased, and he lay unconscious.

Blood dripped from Paul's feet, but he felt only a physical discomfort. For these people in the institute, he had no pity. Maybe some had their reasons, but it didn't matter to him. His painful two months were thanks to these bastards. No one had pitied him.

Paul let out a breath, venting some of the resentment he had pent up. He squatted down, searched the guard, and quickly found a rifle. It felt heavy and solid in his hands.

Paul then took off the guard's clothes and shoes, putting them on himself.

Crackle! The sound of something breaking came from above. The fire was out of control, with debris falling from the ceiling. Paul knew he couldn't stay here any longer. Even with his immortality, he could be buried alive by the collapsing building.

The thick smoke made it hard to see or find his way. "No time to think," Paul muttered, grabbing the rifle and running wildly in one direction. 

At the same time, in the area where the explosion occurred, Francis rushed to the scene, followed by over a dozen guards carrying fire extinguishers, trying to douse the surrounding flames.

Francis walked in with a gloomy face, surveying the messy scene. After a few steps, he noticed the oxygen chamber in the corner was open, and Wade, who was supposed to be inside, was missing. His heart suddenly grew alert.

"Boom!"

A figure emerged from the thick smoke, rushing toward the guards. With a shard of glass in hand, he slashed a guard's throat. Blood sprayed, and the guard clutched his neck in shock, unable to cry for help.

This figure was Wade!

Wade, now naked, was covered in rotting scars, his skin looking like it had been dipped in sulfuric acid. His appearance was horrifying.

"Francis!"

Wade glared at Francis, his hoarse voice dripping with rage.

As Paul had anticipated, Francis had begun torturing Wade more cruelly than ever. As retaliation for Wade's incessant mouthing off, Francis had locked him in a device that controlled oxygen levels, leaving him in a state of hypoxia and torturing him repeatedly. This cruel treatment accelerated the serum's activation in Wade's body, giving him super self-healing abilities and curing his cancer, but it also left him horribly disfigured.

Seeing his disfigured face, even Wade couldn't accept his appearance. During Francis's absence, Wade had detonated an instrument with a stolen match, causing the explosion with nearby flammable materials. He survived only because of his new self-healing factor. Instead of escaping, he waited for Francis to arrive.

…

"So it was you, idiot."

Seeing Wade, Francis finally understood the cause of the explosion. He immediately ordered the guards: "Shoot! Kill him!"

But Wade was quicker. As Francis spoke, Wade had already taken the rifle from the fallen guard, disengaged the safety, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The gunshots were loud, and three guards' heads exploded . Wade's precise aim shocked the remaining guards. After killing two more, the guards finally returned fire without aiming.

Bang bang bang bang bang!

Muzzle flames lit up, and bullets poured out. Wade deftly tumbled behind cover, continuing to shoot accurately despite the smoky environment. As an experienced top mercenary, he thrived in such conditions.

The fierce gun battle began!

Francis, however, didn't participate. He hid in the wreckage of a large instrument, seemingly waiting for something.

"Tread..."

Amidst the roaring gunshots, a faint sound of footsteps approached. A guard turned over the wreckage, sitting next to Francis with a rifle in hand, panting as if frightened.

Noticing Francis's gaze, the guard turned his head. Their eyes met, and the atmosphere grew awkward.

Paul felt incredibly unlucky. Unable to find the exit, he had stumbled into this area and witnessed Wade's rampage. Hoping to avoid the battle, he sought a hiding place but ended up face-to-face with Francis.

Francis, seeing the dusty Paul, assumed he was a surviving guard.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked, frowning.

Seeing that Francis didn't recognize him, Paul disguised his voice: "It's too dangerous out there. I want to stay here to protect you!"

"I don't need protection," Francis said flatly.

Paul nodded vigorously: "Okay, then you can protect me."

Francis: "???"

Francis found it strange. "Who are you?"

"I understand what I know, and it's useless to talk about what I don't," Paul grinned.

"It's you!!" Recognizing the familiar phrase, Francis's pupils shrank. It was the same damn riddler!