A wonderfully kind contest.

By the time everyone had left the bunker, the paralysis effect had worn off. Wesker was able to move again and thought for a moment, "What a fool he is. I was a captain of a special forces unit long before the virus entered my body, and I managed perfectly well without it!" Wesker brushed the dust off his cloak. "I wonder how he found out about that name... and why he called me that? However, that's not important right now. I should focus on more important matters, but first..." He walked over to a cabinet built into the wall and opened it. Inside were ten identical pairs of glasses, one of which he put on. "This is better." Somewhere in Iraq... Richard and his master were moving rapidly across the desert in a high-speed buggy, traversing one sandy valley after another. "Still, why did you decide not to cooperate with Lizard and shut down the project?" "Because it's no longer possible to continue it, because one fool with slicked-back hair destroyed everything." "Slicked-back hair?" Richard laughed. "Just like yours!" "Yes, I thought so too. He's also a plagiarist... However, I'm not worried about the loss of data, but about the fact that someone copied everything before he arrived." "What do you mean?!" Suddenly, a shell exploded right in front of them. Wesker stopped the buggy abruptly. "We've arrived." A few minutes later, a truck appeared in their field of vision, speeding towards them. When it reached them, it stopped, and six men of Arab appearance got out, surrounding the buggy and pointing their AK-47s at the two people inside. ...With their hands tied, Richard and Wesker moved through a secret military base where life was bustling. Soldiers were practicing their shooting skills, technicians were repairing damaged Marauders, suicide bombers were praying to Allah, snipers and guards stood at their posts, and worker-slaves were building new fortifications and laying new explosives. Scud Storm stood out among the other structures with its intimidating, yet captivating appearance. A man who seemed to be in charge of everything approached Wesker and his "escort." He immediately recognized Wesker and addressed him. "Why have you come?" "Let's just say... I need some 'help'." A few hours later. After listening to the story, the man laughed. "And he deprived you of your so-called 'abilities'? How did you let that happen? But in reality, these lab rats, like those who developed that antivirus, don't understand anything about this field. I will conduct some observations and take samples of your blood, tissue, etc., and then, I think, I will be able to restore everything." A few more hours passed. "Amazing! I managed to recreate the virus that you were once infected with, although not quite in its ideal form. All the 'test subjects' died a few minutes after it was administered... I found out that death occurs as a result of a side effect that your body has developed immunity to over the years. That is, yes, you will be able to use it. The bad news is that your, uh, 'friend' wasn't lying, and you really do have a risk of suffering if your DNA is altered again. But what I did doesn't have that risk, as it has a narcotic-like effect. In other words, you will have to constantly inject yourself with the virus I created to maintain the effect, which lasts for 48 hours, that is, one dose every two days. It is addictive; if you don't get a dose for a long time, you may experience severe headaches and insomnia." Wesker thanked him for the work done and hurried to leave, leaving Richard to work here, serving his new master. At first, he was a little upset, but when he saw his new laboratory, he perked up and eagerly began to conduct new, even more cruel experiments on people.