AN : more power stone if you wanna more update.
50 power stone= 1 Bonus chapter for this week.
...
Seeing himself at gunpoint, Dr. Greg raised his trembling hands. Meanwhile, Allen calmly sat in the chair in front of Greg's computer. He inserted the CD drive he'd brought to copy all of the professor's research data. It didn't take long before he grabbed everything he needed.
"Hmmm, looks like you've been hiding a bunch of secrets here, Professor," Allen sneered as he yanked out the CD drive once all the files were copied. "But unfortunately, Spencer's already onto every damn move you've made."
Allen's words drained the color from Greg's face. He wanted to curse the bastard in front of him, but his tongue felt glued in place. Especially since the gun he'd stashed under the desk was already found and tucked away by Allen.
"A-are you gonna kill me…?" Greg stammered in a shaky voice, pure terror gripping him.
"Oh, don't worry, Professor." Allen flashed a thin, creepy smile. "I was just told to snag your research. As for killing you, Sergei didn't mention a word about that."
Allen stood up, getting ready to bail. For a split second, Greg let out a shaky breath of relief. But then—
Bang!
The gunshot cracked through the room. Greg screamed like a banshee, crumpling to the floor as he clutched his thigh—or what was left of his groin. Blood gushed out in hot spurts, soaking his pants. He could see it right there on the floor: his balls, mangled and torn, lying in a sticky puddle next to chunks of flesh from his wrecked cock. The pain exploded through him like fire, sharp and nauseating, as he writhed and howled.
"Ahhhhh… why!" he wailed in total despair.
'Think of it as a warning,' Allen said coldly. "Next time, don't even dream of messing with Umbrella."
Without a backward glance, Allen slipped out of the room—he wasn't about to waste more time on that loser.
Dr. Greg lay sprawled on the floor, grinding his teeth against the agony ripping through his crotch. Deep down, he vowed that someday he'd track that prick down and kill him… right after he finished his own Tyrant project.
Fuck... fuck... fuck... fuck... I swear I'll make him pay for this, Greg thought to himself, fighting the searing pain in his ruined groin.
Meanwhile, Allen strolled out of the university looking casual as hell, just smirking to himself. "Well, for a guy like that, at least now he won't be spreading his seed all over the place anymore, right?" he muttered, pulling off his mask before vanishing from the scene.
Yeah, he figured he'd just done the world a favor by blasting Dr. Greg's balls to hell and turning him into a goddamn eunuch.
....
Meanwhile, at a small bar in Raccoon City, the members of S.T.A.R.S. gathered to relax after a long day. The place was loud and warm, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. For a moment, they could forget about reports, missions, and the strange cases piling up around the city.
Jill Valentine sat comfortably with a drink in hand, occasionally smiling at something Barry said across the table. Rebecca Chambers stayed close by, listening more than talking, though she laughed along with the others. Chris was in the middle of telling a story about training, exaggerating just enough to make everyone groan.
One person, however, was missing.
Albert Wesker.
As usual, their captain kept his distance. He rarely joined them for drinks or casual conversation. To him, professionalism came first—at least, that was what they believed.
Earlier that day, S.T.A.R.S. had completed an intense training session led by Wesker himself. It had been exhausting, pushing everyone to their limits. Officially, the training was requested by Chief Brian Irons. With an investigation in the Arklay Mountains approaching, Irons wanted the team fully prepared. Strange murders and mysterious incidents had frightened the citizens of Raccoon City, and protests were starting to grow. The department needed results—something solid enough to calm the public.
But while that was the official reason, Wesker had his own agenda.
He didn't care about the citizens' fear. He didn't care about S.T.A.R.S.' image.
Behind his dark sunglasses, Wesker was already thinking several steps ahead. He planned to use his own teammates as pawns to gather valuable combat data on Umbrella's biological weapons. Every encounter, every fight, every near-death experience would provide information.
Information he could later sell to Umbrella's enemies.
And with that data, he would secure his golden ticket to escape from the shadow of the very corporation he served.
The bar door creaked open as Mark and Kevin stepped inside, shaking off the cool night air of Raccoon City.
Mark, wearing his usual easygoing grin, immediately spotted Chris at the counter. "Hey, buddy! I heard your team's been really busy lately. Something big going on, huh?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of beer and taking a long gulp without waiting for an answer.
Chris sighed and took a drink from his own bottle. "I don't want to talk about it," he replied flatly. He opened another beer, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "The training we've been put through is brutal. Feels like we're dogs being drilled day and night. Honestly… I'm a little jealous of you. Must be nice just sitting in the office."
Mark chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Ohh… don't tell me this training is preparation for dealing with those missing people lately? If this keeps up, this city's going to turn into a ghost town real soon."
Chris simply nodded. "Yeah… something like that."
Kevin, standing beside him, spoke in a gloomy tone. "My neighbor disappeared in the Arklay Mountains. They went up there for a picnic and… never came back."
That made Mark's smile fade. Chris stared quietly at his drink. Neither of them had expected the situation to escalate that badly.
From a nearby table, Bob from the Special Rescue team joined in. "I've got a friend who swore he saw something out there in Arklay," he said cautiously. "He said it was a monster. Claimed it was eating people alive. I didn't believe him at first—thought it was just nonsense. But now… with the case getting worse… I'm starting to think there's something seriously wrong out there."
The table fell silent.
The lively atmosphere of the bar suddenly felt distant.
No one laughed. No one argued.
Just a few quiet nods passed between them—a shared understanding that whatever was happening in the Arklay Mountains wasn't normal.
It needed to be investigated.
But for tonight… they chose not to talk about it any further.
Even though Chris and the others clearly didn't want to continue talking about the case, it seemed someone else had been listening to their entire conversation.
"Hmmm… looks like I'll have to investigate this myself," a calm feminine voice came from the next table.
A blonde woman with short hair slowly turned in her chair, a glass in her hand. Her sharp eyes studied them with quiet interest.
Joseph raised an eyebrow and leaned toward Kevin. "Uhmm… and who's this beautiful lady?" he asked casually, assuming she had come with him.
Kevin let out a small breath and glanced at the woman. "She's Alyssa Ashcroft. Reporter from the Raccoon City Newspaper," he explained. Then, with a half-joking tone, he added, "You sure you wanna try talking to her? Trust me, she's not easy to approach."
It was clear Kevin knew her well enough.
"Hmmm… a reporter?" Joseph muttered.
Still, that didn't stop him. With misplaced confidence, he stood up and walked over to her table.
"Hey, pretty girl. Wanna hang out with me?" he asked smoothly.
Alyssa looked up at him for barely a second.
"No."
Flat. Cold. Final.
"Ah… okay." Joseph scratched the back of his head awkwardly before retreating to his seat.
The S.T.A.R.S. table burst into laughter.
Barry chuckled loudly, patting the table. "Hey, Joseph, you're not Allen. Don't expect women to just fall into your arms."
At the mention of her husband's name, Jill only shook her head lightly, not giving much of a reaction.
Rebecca, however, quickly looked down at her drink, her face turning red. She didn't say anything, but the sudden mention of Allen clearly embarrassed her.
A moment later, a waitress approached Alyssa's table.
It was Cindy Lennox.
"Ma'am, here's your order," Cindy said gently as she placed a bottle of beer and a slice of pie in front of her.
"Thank you," Alyssa replied, handing her a tip before returning her attention to the small notebook in her hand—already scribbling down notes, as if tonight's casual bar chatter might turn into tomorrow's headline.
Not long after that, the bar's door swung open again.
This time, Allen entered—accompanied by Hera.
"Well, speak of the devil! The guy we were just talking about shows up—and look, he even brought another one of his wives with him, hahaha!" Barry shouted, already half-drunk.
The moment Jill saw Allen, she immediately stood up and greeted him with a kiss on the lips.
The atmosphere in the bar instantly soured, as if Allen had just thrown dog shit right in front of everyone.
"Hey, honey, how was training? Was it tiring?" Allen asked softly.
"Yeah… a little," Jill replied, before leading Allen and Hera over to the girls' table.
Allen sat down beside Rebecca. Without hesitation, he kissed her on the lips as well.
Rebecca was startled at first, but after a second, she closed her eyes and accepted the kiss.
Allen's actions once again left Barry and the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members stunned, their expressions turning even more sour.
"Oh God… why is the world so unfair," Joseph muttered as he downed his beer and ordered another.
Barry, watching him, burst out laughing. "Hahahaha! Looks like every single one of our female S.T.A.R.S. members has fallen for Allen. Hey, Allen! I hope you'll treat us to a round in celebration."
Hearing that, Allen nodded. "Of course. Drinks are on me tonight."
The whole team immediately cheered and ordered more alcohol.
Chris grabbed another beer with a small grin—he had already gotten used to this kind of situation.
Even though he didn't really like Allen—especially with how much of a womanizer he was—that didn't mean Chris hated him. He wasn't narrow-minded or overly dramatic about it.
Meanwhile, Alyssa, who was sitting not far from the newly arrived group, quietly observed Allen from her seat.
Her heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him, and she found it hard to look away. After all, Allen was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
At that moment, Allen was busy ordering food at the counter.
Enrico Marini, the captain of Bravo Team, turned toward him and asked, "Hey, Allen. I heard you're going to be working with S.T.A.R.S. as a medical officer for Bravo Team. Weren't you working at Umbrella? What exactly happened?"
Allen scratched the back of his head lightly. "Well… how should I put it? Let's just say they weren't satisfied with my performance, so they transferred me to Special Rescue," he replied in a mock-sad tone.
Rebecca immediately looked concerned. "That's not true, right? They just don't know how talented you are," she said, trying to cheer him up.
Jill and Hera, on the other hand, didn't look amused at all. Their expressions darkened slightly, clearly upset. From the way they looked, it seemed like they were ready to march over to Umbrella themselves for daring to treat their husband as if he were useless.
Noticing their reactions, Allen quickly leaned closer to them and whispered the real reason behind his transfer.
Whatever he told them worked.
Their tense expressions softened, and they slowly calmed down, choosing to trust him instead of letting their emotions get the better of them.
Barry chimed in, "Don't worry, Allen. I'm sure they're the ones who'll regret transferring you to our team."
"Thanks, buddy," Allen answered with a smile.
Alyssa, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, perked up the moment she heard that Allen had worked at Umbrella. Seeing this as a scoop, she rose from her seat and walked over to him.
"Sir, you mentioned you worked for the Umbrella Corporation? Are there any special medicines currently being developed there?"
"You're right. But why would a beautiful young lady like you be curious about that?" Allen said after taking a sip of his beer.
"I just wanted to ask, that's all. By the way, my name's Alyssa Ashcroft. I'm a journalist. Here's my business card," Alyssa introduced herself, handing over her card with her contact number on it.
"And if you'd like a private interview, you can reach me at this number," she added, winking playfully.
"Of course, if I have some free time, I'll be sure to call you, Miss Ashcroft," Allen replied smoothly, accepting her card and winking back.
Watching her husband flirt so casually, Jill and Hera pinched Allen's thigh under the table, but of course, he didn't even flinch at their gentle attempts.
Alyssa quickly excused herself, her face slightly flushed—afraid that if she lingered any longer, her heart wouldn't be able to take it.
It seems there isn't a woman alive who can withstand my charm, Allen thought smugly to himself.
Meanwhile, Jill, Hera, and Rebecca silently agreed that their man was far too dangerous to be left unattended for long, and decided to take him back to the apartment as soon as their meal was over.
...
Meanwhile, in the apartment, moans filled the air from Rebecca as her ass was pounded hard by Allen right now.
"Uhmm ahh... ahh... Allen, slow down.... oh god..." she gasped, feeling like her body was being split in half from below as Allen's thick cock claimed her ass virginity.
Plop... plop... plop...
The wet, rhythmic slaps echoed through the room, each thrust stretching her tight ring impossibly wide around his massive girth. Rebecca's small frame trembled beneath him, her hands clutching the sheets as pain mingled with an unexpected spark of pleasure. But soon, that spark ignited into a full blaze. Her initial whimpers turned to eager cries, her hips bucking back to meet his drives.
"Ahhh... yes, harder! Fuck my ass harder!" Rebecca begged, her tongue lolling out in ecstasy, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth.
Allen, fueled by her surrender, captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Their mouths crashed together, tongues twisting and tangling like serpents in heat, saliva mixing in a sloppy, heated exchange that left them both breathless.
Fifteen minutes of relentless pounding later, Allen's balls tightened, and he buried himself deep, unleashing his load into her ass. Rebecca felt the hot jets of his cum flooding her intestines, warm and thick, coating her insides as her body clenched around him in response.
But Allen, blessed—or cursed—with endless stamina, didn't stop. He kept slamming his hips forward, his cock pistoning in and out of her cum-slicked hole without mercy.
"Uhhhh.... ahhh.. ahh.. yes!" Rebecca's eyes rolled back in her head, her mind fracturing into a haze of overwhelming sensation. The intensity shattered her control, and a hot stream of piss escaped her, soaking the floor beneath them in a humiliating yet perversely arousing puddle.
Their depraved display was the stuff of forbidden fantasies—raw, animalistic, and utterly intoxicating. Anyone stumbling upon this scene would feel their own desires ignite, blood rushing south at the sight of such unbridled lust.
Allen scooped Rebecca up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the balcony window. The city lights blurred outside, but he didn't care. Positioning her against the glass, he pulled out of her ass with a lewd pop and aligned his throbbing shaft with her dripping pussy. In one swift motion, he thrust in deep, the same brutal pace resuming as his balls slapped against her asshole with every plunge.
Meanwhile, across the street in the neighboring building, Ada Wong peered through her binoculars, her surveillance mission derailed by the erotic spectacle unfolding in Allen's apartment. Well, she's been following Allen around, obviously to find out more information about him. Well, even though she didn't expect this simple mission to become a bit noisy now.
And now her gaze was fixed on the mighty figure of Allen dominating the smaller woman.
She tried to look away, to refocus on her objective, but the image burned into her mind: that enormous cock, thick as an adult's wrist, sliding effortlessly into the ass of a girl even tinier than Ada's own lithe body. Shock rippled through her, widening her eyes.
"Hiss... how can something that size fit so easily into someone's ass?" Ada murmured, her hand instinctively pressing against her own firm cheeks as if to reassure herself. "What's more, it looks like she's really enjoying it."
When Allen repositioned Rebecca at the window and drove into her pussy with ferocious intensity, Ada's breath hitched. She could see it all too clearly now—the way Rebecca's flat belly bulged outward with each full penetration, his cockhead pressing against her womb like a battering ram.
Ada's resolve crumbled. She wanted to stop watching, to tear her eyes away from this voyeuristic indulgence, but her body betrayed her. Her fingers slipped under her waistband, brushing her slick folds before circling her swollen clit with urgent need.
Heat bloomed between her thighs, her panties growing sodden as arousal leaked out, dripping onto the dusty floor of the abandoned office. The sensation was electric, her pulse racing as she rubbed faster, unable to deny the pull any longer.
Seeing how far she'd gone, Ada surrendered to the moment. It was too late to pretend indifference; she committed to watching, her free hand steadying the binoculars as she drank in every detail.
"It's been three hours... does that guy really have endless stamina?" she whispered to the empty room, a pang of sympathy twisting in her gut for Rebecca. The young woman's body hung limp in Allen's grip, her eyes glassy, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness from the marathon of pleasure and exhaustion.
Allen, ever vigilant, sensed the eyes on him. A prickle at the back of his neck, but no alarm bells rang. He knew the protective collar around Rebecca's neck was doing its job—if the watcher had been a man, the tech would have blinded him or worse, frying his retinas or stopping his heart in an instant. His women were shielded from lecherous stares, a safeguard in his dangerous world. A female observer? Harmless, for now.
"I'm going to cum, Rebecca," he growled, his voice rough with building release.
Plop.... plop... plop...
The sounds grew wetter, sloppier, as her pussy milked him relentlessly.
"Ahhh.... yes, cum inside me! Fill my baby room with your juice, Allen!" she cried out, her voice hoarse but fervent.
Her words tipped him over the edge. Allen roared low in his throat, pumping his ninth load of the night deep into her womb, thick ropes of semen flooding her core until it overflowed.
"Uhhh...." Rebecca's world went black, her body slumping fully as she passed out, a blissful smile curving her lips, her tongue still protruding in slack-jawed satisfaction.
Allen eased his cock free with a satisfied grunt, and from both of her ravaged holes, his creamy cum poured out like a river, gushing from her gaping pussy and asshole in viscous streams that trailed down her thighs and puddled on the floor below.