Chapter 123: Matthew + a Very Long Suffix
The wild Megamycete's mycelium thrashed through the cave in a frenzy, hammering itself against the rock walls in surges, trying to interrupt what was happening.
It was past interrupting.
Matthew was something like a black hole at this point, pulling at the wild Megamycete's core without pause. First the limbs, then the body, then finally the head.
The sound the Megamycete made as it felt itself disappearing piece by piece was something between a cry and a frequency.
"Mir..."
It kept repeating the word in the direction of Matthew, over and over, with the particular quality of something that has very little left and knows it. The tone carried no inflection. The desperation was audible anyway.
Matthew didn't respond. He kept consuming.
As the E-Type Mold inside him grew, the pull inside the cocoon intensified. More ground was covered per second.
At some point the hundred-meter entity was gone.
What remained was a figure floating in midair in a space that was now entirely quiet. Around it, the mycelium that had hung from every surface of the cave began to calcify and fall.
Matthew gave a small, acknowledging burp.
He didn't feel full. What he felt was harder to describe: the sense of having moved to a different position on some scale, something to do with the level of what he was. The numbers had changed. But there was also information. Not his memories, but information in the same way that memories are information. Fragments of centuries of accumulated experience, belonging to whatever the Megamycete had been before it stopped being anything separately.
Among them, he saw a child. Miranda's daughter. As the Megamycete had known her.
His own memories and these fragments coexisted without interfering with each other. The distinction was clean: one was memory, the other was like watching a film of someone else's life from the inside.
He opened his personal panel.
[Name: Matthew (T-Virus + V-Virus + G-Virus + E-Type Mold + Green Goblin Formula + Spider-Man Serum Host)]
[Abilities (unchanged entries abbreviated):]
[Regenerative Evolution LV4: In normal conditions, damage below 80% produces no effect on function. Regenerated tissue becomes harder and more resistant to subsequent damage. Severed limb regeneration time reduced by 3 seconds; vital organ restoration activates on blood contact.]
[Monstrous Strength LV6: Physical strength now matches base Angry Hulk and Abomination without falling behind in direct contest. Full sprint speed: 180 meters per second.]
[Blood Mist Form LV2: Can dissolve into blood mist for high-speed movement. Immune to low-grade physical damage while in mist state.]
[Endurance LV...]
[Neural Reflexes...]
[Evolutionary Capacity: Targeted Evolution LV1...]
[Flesh Control LV3: Extensive manipulation of flesh for weaponization and armoring. Control range expanded from a single location to the full body simultaneously.]
[Gravity Manipulation LV4...]
[Avatar LV3: Can freely alter appearance. Can transform the body into any living organism the user has knowledge of.]
[Consciousness Download LV2: When a mold-infected individual dies, you can intercept and preserve their consciousness. When a suitable vessel is available, you can download the consciousness into it, effectively restoring them.]
[Split LV2: As a Megamycete entity, you can divide and distribute E-Type Mold.]
[Life Sublimation LV1: Absorbed consciousnesses collectively serve as the first line of defense for your psyche against mental attacks.]
He read through it.
Life Sublimation was new. That one had come from absorbing the wild Megamycete.
"Psychic defense," he said quietly.
He didn't think it would stop Professor X specifically. Against lower-tier psychic attacks, though, it would do something useful. Prevention before it became a problem. That was the logic.
It was also why he kept Eveline on staff.
He was still cataloguing the changes when the radio produced a familiar voice.
"Boss. We found everything on your list." Leon sounded pleased. "Once we're back, any chance of a pay raise for our squad?"
Half-joking, but only half.
"A raise."
"That's right."
In the RE4 timeline, Leon had operated alone. In this one, he led a squad, which meant he had people to advocate for. A team leader who didn't was barely a team leader.
Matthew paused for a few seconds, then: "Both your squad and Hunk's squad. Twenty percent, across the board."
Leon's estimation of Matthew went up another considerable notch. The man had just agreed immediately, no negotiation, and they were talking about actual money multiplied across two full squads.
He'd heard about the student loan initiative too. A low-interest program bearing Matthew's name, actually backed and funded. Different from politicians who made good-sounding promises in speeches.
[System: +100 points. Leon S. Kennedy's recognition has increased.]
The call ended.
Leon pocketed the radio and looked back at the firefight.
His team was in the middle of a sustained engagement with the Lycans pushing out of the village. He picked a moment when nobody was directly dying, and broadcast the raise news at a normal speaking volume that somehow cut through the gunfire without effort.
"Everyone. Boss says when this wraps up, twenty percent raise across the squad."
The effect was immediate. The tempo of fire from his team increased noticeably.
"What about us?" Hunk's voice came across the channel, flat and low. He'd just put a boot through a Lycan that had gotten too close. It landed somewhere in the dark.
"Your squad?" Leon let the pause do its work.
Hunk's team went quiet and listened.
When Leon had held the suspense long enough: "Same thing. Both squads."
"Let's go!! Long live the raise!!" One team member's voice went over the radio.
"No, long live the company!!" A correction from somewhere else.
"Wrong! Long live Mr. Lawrence!!"
"Mr. Lawrence! Long live Mr. Lawrence!!"
The cheering ran for about ten seconds.
From the other side of the channel, Hunk said: "When we get back. Barbecue. I'm paying."
His team went silent.
They looked at each other.
Then they looked at their squad leader.
Hunk, inviting people to barbecue. Hunk, offering to pay. This was information they weren't sure how to process. The man's professional reputation was built around extraordinarily high survival rates among enemies and somewhat more complicated ones among colleagues.
"Is barbecue... also long live?" one of them offered carefully.
The others exchanged glances.
They genuinely weren't sure whether they were going to live long enough to collect.
***
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