[CHARACTER]: ALAN (2/10)
[PROFESSION]: ALCHEMIST (LV. 0)
[SKILLS]: DECOMPOSITION (LV. 0), REFINING (LV. 0)
[TIMELINE]: HYDRA (1940)
[REQUIREMENT]: REACH LV. 120 IN CURRENT PROFESSION TO RETURN TO THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE.
Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle…
Alan buried his head in the water alongside the speedboat, blowing a continuous stream of bubbles.
Gasp!
After a while, he raised his head to take a breath before submerging himself in the water again. Natasha held the steering wheel, quietly watching his insane performance.
Waiting for Alan to surface for air again, he asked expectantly, "How about my artificial turbo? Is the boat going much faster?"
"It's working very well. Please continue," Natasha replied without a hint of sarcasm, unwilling to expose the truth. She was finally getting some quiet time, and she would let Alan torture himself as long as he liked.
"I am indeed an inventor. I have developed the human engine, Unit-01. Ignition!"
Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle…
The speedboat sailed into territory controlled by the Soviet Union and was met by troops coming to provide support.
"Good evening, comrades," Alan said, adopting the tone of a high-ranking leader. "Thank you for your hard work."
As the speedboat approached, the Soviet soldiers wasted no time. They put a cloth hood over Alan's head and took him directly to the interrogation site.
"Playing with mystery, how exciting," Alan's muffled voice came from under the hood. "Are you going to use a honey trap? I have very strong endurance, but please be sure to prepare ten of them. If there are eleven beauties, I won't be able to hold on and will confess everything." He did not forget to add, "You must wear lace and embroidered stockings. My endurance can be improved by 300%."
At this, a soldier tore off the hood, took a piece of hemp rope from his pocket, tied several knots in it, and stuffed it into his mouth, completely blocking it.
Mmph, mmph, mmph…
Alan couldn't make a sound and clutched his head, looking very anxious.
"Natasha, welcome back safely." A middle-aged lieutenant colonel greeted her with a smile, a special medal on his uniform indicating his extraordinary status.
"It's an honor to see you again, Director Karpov," Natasha replied, her expression solemn, not daring to show the slightest negligence. The man was affiliated with the Soviet Union's highest security agency, known to the outside world as the famous KGB. The Red Room and the Winter Guard were all under its management.
"Did the other party behave suspiciously on the way back?" Karpov asked casually.
"No," Natasha answered truthfully. "He might really be a psychopath."
"A psychopath?" Karpov looked stunned, finding it hard to believe that the Axis powers would imprison scientists and mental patients together.
"It's difficult for me to describe, Director. Please make your own judgment." Natasha rubbed her brows. Recalling Alan's chattering, she felt a wave of anxiety. She even suspected that the Axis powers had imprisoned him with the scientists simply to torture them.
They walked to the interrogation room where two interrogators were already waiting. This was a necessary procedure to prevent spies from infiltrating the Soviet Union, especially with scientific researchers who were of immense value. The so-called interrogator was actually a psychic mutant who could sense whether someone was lying.
At this moment, Alan was sitting in the interrogation chair, looking a little downcast, presumably because there were not ten beauties ready to interrogate him physically and mentally.
"Name?"
"Odewumuwiennyeltwinwewuwenmuben-oshas."
"…"
Alan's words were astonishing. What kind of name is this? It's a damn spell!
"Your name?" the interrogator repeated.
With a natural look, Alan repeated, "Odewumuwiennyeltwinwewuwenmuben-oshas."
The mutant interrogator shook his head, indicating that Alan was not lying. It was just because, while secretly playing on the computer at Westwood Psychiatric Hospital, he had come across a video of an African man named Odebiao transporting bananas and had unilaterally declared that he would join his family and live a life of transporting bananas on a bicycle.
"Skip it. Next question," the interrogator sighed. "What are your specialties?"
Specialties? Alan looked down between his legs, a confident smile appearing on his face.
The interrogator immediately interrupted, "What skills do you have?"
"I can study, and be studied," Alan said frankly.
The two interrogators' lips twitched. Is being studied considered a skill? Alan wasn't lying. He was studied by the doctors at his previous institution, and at the same time, he was considerate enough to help study the cases of other patients.
"What is Dr. Wilson Duke an expert in?"
"I don't know him." Alan asked back, "Where is this place?"
"You didn't know, and you escaped with them?" The interrogator rubbed his forehead.
"They all left, so I followed." In fact, Alan had been confused the whole time. He didn't even know Dr. Zola, who had assigned him the vague mission that sent him running around like a headless fly in the first place.
"This is the Soviet Union. You are safe now," the interrogator consoled.
At this, Alan's expression turned firm. "Excellent! I am a man of simple tastes: no home, no money, no partner, but a heart full of untapped potential! I am like a high-quality, multi-purpose tool. You can use me to hammer a nail, or stir your tea. My loyalty is yours to command!"
"No, thank you," the interrogator refused decisively.
The interrogation was over. The interrogator couldn't keep up with Alan's train of thought and almost made his own brain smoke.
Of course, Alan successfully passed the interrogation not only because he did not lie but also because he had the help of Hydra agents. After a series of secret operations, Alan was gloriously assigned to the weapons development bureau as a cleaner.
At least he had a steady job. The daily work was simple: go to various offices, collect garbage, and then burn it all together.
Sitting next to the garbage pile, Alan studied his profession panel.
[DECOMPOSITION LV. 0: PROCESSED ITEMS CAN BE DECOMPOSED AND RESTORED.]
[REFINING LV. 0: CAN REFINE AND PURIFY DECOMPOSED MATERIALS.]
"An alchemist is still a profession that can make a living. I look down on fighting; I've already retired from that life." Alan reached into the back of his pants and took out the Blade of Redemption he had obtained in the previous timeline. The question arose: where had he hidden it? Alan would never tell anyone, but he had kept it clamped in the crack of his buttocks. Considering hygiene, he had kept it clamped through his underwear.
"Decompose." His eyes were focused on the Blade of Redemption, but after waiting for a long time, nothing happened. Could it be that the item level is too high?
Alan took out another test tube of the Dionysus factor from his armpit. This had been obtained from the League of Assassins' base. At the time, he had seen a Hydra agent steal some, so he had stolen a tube for himself, thinking it might be useful. He tried to decompose the Dionysus factor, but the result was the same.
"Oh no! My magic is malfunctioning!"
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