Resident evil : Rise of a Monster english

After taking the time to organize my various projects with the invaluable help of my assistant Delphine, who manages my schedule with masterful precision, I was able to clear two full months in my calendar. It wasn't easy, but every minute gained was worth the effort.

During this period, I resolved several important matters. First, I completely sidelined Spencer, leaving him with nothing but a mansion and a few servants whose salaries are now managed by the company under my direct control in Raccoon City. This man, who once saw himself as a god, has been reduced to a mere tool under my watchful eye. Unlike Wesker, Birkin, or Marcus, Spencer has no particular talent or useful expertise. I keep him around solely for the day his existence might serve as bait, particularly to lure out the Wesker clone if he ever seeks revenge, as in the original timeline.

With unanimous support from the other shareholders, I also orchestrated a major corporate change. Umbrella, whose reputation was irreparably tarnished, was rebranded as King Pharmaceuticals. The transition went smoothly, without the slightest opposition. To my satisfaction, the simple products launched under this new brand in Raccoon City quickly met with impressive success. The announcement of the rebranding was met with enthusiasm, and sales skyrocketed, exceeding all my forecasts.

In parallel, I acquired a significant portion of Umbrella's liabilities, consolidating their assets under my control while cleaning up their public image. With this solid foundation, I turned my attention to another project: locating Rockfort Island. My goal? Establish contact with Alfred Ashford and arrange a visit as the majority shareholder.

February 9, 2000 (I know this doesn't align with the game's timeline, but consider that the Wesker clone hasn't attacked the island yet.)

My helicopter finally flies over the island. In broad daylight, it reveals an impressive yet eclectic landscape. The rugged cliffs and rocky terrain starkly contrast with the Ashford mansion, an ostentatious architectural statement that feels almost incongruous amidst the wild surroundings. Other, more modern industrial buildings dot the island, their functional appearance clashing with the mansion's decaying elegance.

As the helicopter begins its descent, I survey the island below, noting the scattered buildings and the imposing mansion. Beside me, Chris Redfield and Joseph Frost sit calmly but attentively. They've left STARS to join me, and their presence as bodyguards is both reassuring and strategic. Even though, with what I have stored in my factory, I could unleash utter pandemonium if the situation turned hostile, their loyalty and skills are invaluable.

Chris stretches slightly in his seat, an amused smile on his face.

"Gerald, are you sure this island doesn't have a hidden volcano somewhere? Because, honestly, it looks like a James Bond movie set."

I chuckle softly. "No volcanoes that I know of, Chris. But if a villain in a white suit comes out of the mansion with an angora cat, you're in charge."

Joseph, double-checking his equipment, raises an eyebrow, smirking.

"Handling it is our job, boss. But seriously, why do all rich guys build mansions in the middle of nowhere? Couldn't you buy a Caribbean island instead?"

I smile. "Patience, Joseph. I prefer challenges, and this island is one."

The helicopter finally lands, kicking up a cloud of dust. As I step out, I scan the area. I immediately notice the absence of Alfred Ashford. Instead, a rugged-looking man approaches, dressed in a slightly worn but impeccably maintained military uniform. It takes me a second to recognize him: Rodrigo Juan Raval, the island's chief of security. A familiar face for anyone who knows the original events.

"Hello, Mr. King. I'm Rodrigo Juan Raval, head of security here, but you can call me Rodrigo," he says, extending a firm hand.

I return his greeting with a strong handshake, briefly noting the surprise in his eyes. He probably expected a more distant demeanor from me.

"Pleasure to meet you, Rodrigo. These are my bodyguards, Mr. Redfield and Mr. Frost."

Chris and Joseph step forward slightly, their posture impeccably professional. Chris extends his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Rodrigo. Beautiful island you've got here."

Joseph, on the other hand, opts for a subtle smile.

"Let's hope the security is as impressive as the scenery."

Rodrigo inclined his head slightly, visibly impressed by their demeanor. "Rest assured, gentlemen, we take security very seriously here."

As he began to escort us toward the manor, I raised a hand to stop him.

"Before heading to the manor, Rodrigo, I'd like to take a look at the other facilities. While flying over the island, I noticed a cemetery. I want to ensure American rights are being respected here."

Rodrigo hesitated for a moment, then nodded, slightly surprised. "Of course, Mr. King. I can take you there."

Chris murmured in my ear, low enough that only Joseph and I could hear.

"Seriously, Gerald, a cemetery? You've really got a knack for creepy places."

I replied in the same tone, a smirk tugging at my lips. "And you've got a real talent for pointless commentary, Chris."

Joseph stifled a laugh as we followed Rodrigo.

We descended a series of narrow staircases, the air growing heavier and slightly damp as we delved deeper into the island's lower levels. At the bottom of the steps, a heavy metal door stood before us, scarred with signs of wear and scratches. Above, a guard stationed in a glass booth watched us. Rodrigo raised his hand in a discreet but precise signal. The guard nodded before speaking into his radio. A few seconds later, the door creaked open ominously.

Entering the courtyard, my eyes quickly scanned the area. Rugged, imposing walls surrounded the space, turning it into an open-air prison. The only visible exit was the metal door we had just passed through. Atop the walls, guards patrolled with rifles in hand, their gazes scrutinizing every movement.

In the center of the courtyard, a Browning machine gun mounted on a tripod pointed not outward for defense but inward, as if to deter any attempts at rebellion. The atmosphere was heavy, almost suffocating. I turned to Rodrigo, my voice calm but sharp.

"Rodrigo," I said, crossing my arms, "this place looks far too much like a prison for my taste."

Rodrigo remained silent, his expression closed. Before he could respond, the sound of metallic clicks echoed. The guards surrounding us raised their rifles, aiming them in our direction. Their faces were tense, but it was clear they were afraid—not of us, but of what they thought we might do.

Chris and Joseph reacted immediately. Joseph positioned himself slightly in front of me, one hand near his knife. Chris, meanwhile, calculated distances, already gauging how many guards he could neutralize before anyone could fire. The tension escalated.

Rodrigo raised a hand, signaling that he was taking control of the situation. His tone turned more formal, almost cold. "You should have gone straight to the manor, Mr. King. But you chose to come here. That said, I doubt it would have changed much for the island's owner."

Chris growled, a wry smile on his face. "I knew this detour reeked of an ambush."

Joseph, ever the sarcastic one, shrugged. "Well, Gerald, looks like we've stumbled into a lovely trap. I wonder if they know they're pointing guns at the big boss—the guy who outranks their 'owner.'"

I remained calm, though my fingers tingled with the urge to act. My icy gaze locked onto Rodrigo. "Rodrigo, call Alfred. Now."

Rodrigo hesitated, his eyes darting between me and his men. The guards tightened their formation, fingers on their triggers. The atmosphere was electric, and I decided to break the silence.

"Listen carefully. If I don't make contact within a few hours, this island will become a battlefield. Trust me, this patch of rock will be overrun by forces you and Alfred can't even fathom. I am far more than what you think. So, for the last time… call Alfred."

Rodrigo took a deep breath, visibly unsettled by my cold confidence. Finally, he pulled out his radio and murmured something. The guards lowered their weapons slightly, though the tension remained thick in the air.

Chris, standing to my left, whispered low enough that only Joseph could hear. "Do we take them down now or wait a little longer?"

I smiled faintly. "Patience. They're already on edge."

Rodrigo finished his communication and put away his radio, his expression once again impassive. "You're going to a cell for now, Mr. King. Your guards will accompany you. The owner wants to speak with you in person."

He gestured, and the guards advanced cautiously, their weapons still trained on us. Rodrigo added, this time with noticeable nerves, "Hand over your weapons. Now."

I raised an eyebrow, remaining still. "Bad idea, Rodrigo. You have no idea what you're doing."

Rodrigo gritted his teeth. "This isn't a request."

One guard stepped forward to search me. As soon as he touched my shoulder, I seized his wrist in a fluid motion. A sickening crack echoed in the courtyard as he screamed in pain. I sent him flying two meters with a powerful kick, his body slamming against the wall with a dull thud.

The other guards recoiled slightly, their weapons trembling. My icy glare bore into Rodrigo.

"Rodrigo, control your men. The next one who tries something this stupid won't leave this island alive."

The man on the ground weakly attempted to draw his weapon, but Joseph reacted in a flash. The whistle of a knife cut through the air, embedding itself in the guard's skull. He collapsed without a sound. The remaining guards turned pale, and Rodrigo raised his hands to calm them.

"Enough! No more stupid moves!" he shouted, his voice trembling slightly.

Joseph retrieved his knife with a swift motion, wiping it clean on the guard's uniform. "Rodrigo, looks like your guys didn't read the manual on good practices."

Rodrigo, visibly tense, composed himself. "Keep your weapons. But you're going to the cell. Now."

We walked across the courtyard, the guards still on high alert. In the distance, through the fences, I spotted a makeshift cemetery. Hundreds of wooden crosses dotted the rocky terrain, adding a grim touch to the place.

I paused for a moment to observe. "Charming spot. Planning to reserve a plot for us too, Rodrigo?"

He clenched his jaw but didn't respond. Eventually, we reached a rudimentary cell. Rodrigo unlocked the door and motioned for us to enter.

Before stepping inside, I turned to him, a chilling smile on my face. "You're playing a dangerous game, Rodrigo. I hope Alfred knows what he's doing. Because if he doesn't, I'll make sure he regrets it."

The bars slammed shut with a resounding clang.

"Now what?" Chris asked, leaning against the wall, flipping a coin skillfully between his fingers.

"Give me a second," I replied, pulling a small device from my bag. Scanning the cell slowly, the device detected two hidden microphones, cleverly concealed in the walls. With a swift motion, I destroyed them, smashing them against the floor.

Joseph whistled softly. "Seriously? Even here, they can't resist spying on us."

I shrugged with a smirk. "Welcome to Rockfort Island. Let's say we wait to meet the owner. Then, I'll decide. If I have to wipe this place out, I will."

Chris chuckled, crossing his arms. "Honestly, I bet they're already wondering if they've made a huge mistake." He glanced at Joseph. "What's your wager on how long it takes us to blow this place up?"

Joseph smiled, keeping his usual seriousness. "Three hours. With Gerald in charge, it never takes long."

I rolled my eyes. "Very funny, guys."

As I stowed my scanner, footsteps echoed down the hallway. We all turned toward the entrance, tension rising slightly. Chris, true to form, couldn't resist joking. "So, you think it's a musclehead or someone important? Maybe an Alfred in goth fashion."

The door opened with calculated slowness, and a woman entered, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Her presence was commanding, her appearance elegant. Blonde hair framed her pale, delicate face, and she wore a shimmering black dress that seemed almost otherworldly under the dim lighting. On her gloved finger perched a dragonfly, as if it, too, was captivated by her.

Chris stared at her for a moment before murmuring under his breath, "Didn't know Rockfort stocked goddesses."

Joseph stifled a laugh, and I shot Chris an exasperated look. "Seriously? Try to stay focused."

Chris shrugged with a mischievous grin. "Hey, just calling it like I see it."

The woman stopped before us, a slight, enigmatic smile on her lips. "Gentlemen, I'm delighted to see you're finding your stay… entertaining. But I doubt you're here to admire the scenery."

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "And you are?" I asked for formality's sake, though I knew perfectly well who she was.

She tilted her head slightly, her piercing eyes scrutinizing each of us. "You may call me Alexia. And you, Mr. King, are much more than a mere guest, aren't you?"

I smiled faintly, adopting a teasing tone. "You could say that. After all, I own this island and the base in the South Pole. So, it's not very polite to mistreat the one who can evict you with nothing to your name."

A flicker of arrogance crossed her eyes, and she responded in a voice tinged with madness, "It seems the gentleman has a sense of humor. But you're nothing more than a mere human. I, however, have transcended life itself. After fifteen years of research, I've become a queen—one to whom her subjects will owe absolute obedience."

Joseph let out a loud sigh, breaking the dramatic atmosphere Alexia was attempting to create. "Seriously, another megalomaniac?"

Chris, not missing a beat with his usual sarcasm, added, "Looks like it. So, boss, what's the plan?"

I gestured casually toward the cell door. "Chris, would you mind opening the door?"

Chris shrugged, and with a simple push of his fingers, the heavy metal door shattered with a resounding crack, falling flat onto the floor. The effect was immediate: Alexia, who had maintained an air of regal arrogance until now, widened her eyes, her smug smile extinguished like a candle snuffed out.

"What... How?!" she gasped, visibly shocked.

Joseph crossed his arms, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Oops, looks like the 'queen' just got dethroned."

Chris added with a wink, "Maybe you should rethink your concept of transcendence, Alexia."

Alexia, visibly shaken, took several steps back, losing her sovereign demeanor. "You… you're not normal!"

I raised my hands in a calming gesture, an amused smile on my face. "Well, Alexia, welcome to reality. Sometimes, kings don't need subjects to topple illusions."

Without another word, she turned on her heels and disappeared down the hallway, her hurried steps betraying her distress.

Joseph burst into laughter. "I think we just ruined her day."

(Author's note: I hope you enjoy this chapter. I rewrote the scenario three times to try and make it more interesting.)