Looking at the luxurious villa—an architectural relic from the Tsarist era—Larina couldn't help but silently curse the owner as a nouveau riche.
Steadying herself, she approached the door and knocked.
The door opened to reveal a beautiful Slavic girl dressed in a traditional maid outfit. She didn't seem surprised by Larina's military uniform. Instead, she politely stepped aside.
"Miss Larina, correct? The master has been expecting you. Please come in."
"Thank you." Larina nodded, following behind her. "How did your master know I was coming?"
"That," the maid replied with a smile, "is something only the master can answer." She led Larina upstairs to the study on the second floor.
"Welcome, Miss Larina." Raj sat comfortably on the sofa by the fireplace, reading. The book… well, it wasn't exactly a world-renowned masterpiece—unless The Carnal Prayer Mat counted.
"Dr. Raj," Larina said, watching the maid leave and quietly close the door, "I'm curious how you knew I would return."
Raj finally set the book aside. "It wasn't that hard to guess. Those three were intellectually crushed by Kuratov. Him beating them was inevitable. Kuratov may be a fool, but at least he's slightly less foolish than they are."
"We don't know for sure that the Guardians lost," Larina insisted. "We only lost contact."
Raj smiled. "It's only a matter of time. Why not confirm it first, then come back?"
"What conditions do you need to help us?" Larina cut straight to the point.
Raj lifted a hand lightly. "No, no. I'm not helping you. I would be helping you, Miss Larina. Personally, I have no goodwill toward the current Russia. It inherited the Soviet Union's weapons but not its ideology. You understand what I mean."
Larina sighed. "Fine. What do you want for your help?"
"Shouldn't you check on your Guardians first?" Raj stood, stepping close enough that she instinctively leaned back. "Believe me—you won't be willing to pay the price."
"I want to hear it." She crossed her arms defensively.
"Alright." Raj shrugged. "My condition is you. You belong to me, and I'll help. I'm sure you understand."
"Shameless—!" Larina stepped forward and struck at him, but the moment her fist moved, her body froze, held in place by telekinesis.
"Let me go…" she forced out.
"How disappointing," Raj said with a soft laugh, walking behind her. "All day long you shout about dedication to the motherland, demanding others sacrifice themselves. But when it's your turn… you falter."
"What… are you doing…" Larina's voice trembled—not just from Raj's words, but from the deliberate, slow way he let his hand trail along her waist, testing her reactions, pushing just enough to make her breath catch.
"Why do you say 'stop,'" Raj murmured near her ear, "when every part of you is saying 'continue'?"
"No… I…" Her voice broke, and her body shivered despite her attempt to resist.
"No... don't... ah————!" Larina straightened her snow-white neck like a swan shot by an arrow, letting out a cry of despair, and then collapsed to the ground...
"Ha... what a treasure!" Raj looked at the large wet patch on his carpet and exhaled in amusement. He hadn't planned on doing more than teasing her to unsettle her—her sharp cheekbones always irritated him—but her unexpected sensitivity made her far more interesting than he anticipated. Definitely collectible….
Thinking of this, Raj picked up the limp Larina and walked directly to the single window-side seat in his study, then placed Larina, who was still in a state of climax, on it.
"From now on, you belong to me, Larina," Raj said, removing Larina's equipment piece by piece while planting a psychological suggestion in her mind...
Two hours later, Larina was sprawled on Raj's body like a puddle of mud, and a blood-colored flower bloomed on the white sheet beneath her... While Raj lazily smoked a cigar. She was a rare find, and not claiming her would have been a waste. A fair exchange—he'd help Russia with Kuratov, and Larina would remain his.
And of course, Raj ignored the fact that Kuratov was his own dog. Dogs exist to take the blame.
Now that Raj had obtained what he wanted, he could leave.
Anna and Ksenia scolded him when they came home and found Larina collapsed in the study, but Raj hardly cared. Their complaints never lasted long—Raj had a very effective way of reminding them who they belonged to.
Raj directly used actions to make them realize that he hadn't tormented them too much in the past only because he was doting on them.
So—in the end, Raj could only go to Moscow himself... After all, Larina wasn't the only one who couldn't move in the study. Anna and Ksenia were also there...
When Raj arrived and saw Kuratov leading a column of armored vehicles toward the city, he dropped down in front of him and, without a single word, crushed him flat with telekinesis.
Raj didn't like Kuratov's extremism, and his ability had too many blind spots. Most importantly, Raj wanted to avoid Kuratov's absurd canon death: killed not by heroes, not by a final showdown… but by falling debris.
A boss villain flattened by a collapsing building.
Raj had overturned more than a few mental tables after watching that movie. The screenwriter must have been raised on pure nonsense.
After returning home, the three girls saw the news of Kuratov's death and happily surrounded Raj. Their wish was fulfilled; it was time to leave this world.
Anna and Ksenia understood this clearly. Larina didn't—but her opinion didn't matter. She was, after all, a slave.
Raj brought the three to the former Super Girls world and settled them there. Naturally, he spent time with the other girls who lived there and even held a welcome party for the new arrival.
Thankfully, the girls from this world weren't as numerous as the ones on his island. Otherwise, he really might have died of exhaustion.
After comforting everyone, Raj didn't return to the real world. Instead, he went back to his undersea base in Kamchatka in the Resident Evil world.
"Number Two, hurry to base! I'm planting at B!" Raj shouted while playing old-school CS in the main control room. Using a high-end machine just to play CS was already extravagant, but dragging eleven clone guards into the game with him? Even more so.
He had been in the base for nearly a week. At first he just roamed around out of boredom, occasionally visiting the survivor bases built by the Umbrella Corporation.
The corporation—after being reshuffled—was now the absolute ruler of this world. It created survivor bases, provided supplies, enforced its own legal structure…
Raj was effectively this world's dictator.
With Umbrella's support, the survivor bases gathered more and more humans. The Earth's population had dropped to less than two hundred million; no governments remained. Only Umbrella had real armed power.
After the White Queen stabilized the situation, she sent teams to secure nuclear arsenals before they could decay into disasters. Nuclear facilities were evaluated and cleaned up. Order slowly returned.
Raj was pleased with what he saw on his outing—after all, these bases were his future private arsenal, and no one wanted chaos inside their own armory.
Back in the base, bored again, Raj rummaged through game discs he scavenged from ruined cities and installed them in the main control computer.
At first he played alone. Then he got bored and asked the White Queen to wake his clone guards from hibernation to play CS with him.