Allen's Grand Conspiracy

The Weapons Development Bureau was deserted at night.

Allen walked into Wilson's office with practiced ease.

Sitting in the chair, Allen flipped through weapon blueprints with a flashlight.

"Type 38 Carbine."

Allen said confidently, "Arsen, I'm going to send you a fortune."

He picked up a pencil and doodled on a clean sheet of paper.

In less than fifteen minutes, detailed AK47 blueprints were completed.

"First step complete, heh heh heh..."

Allen went back to his room to sleep, satisfied, waiting for things to unfold.

[Character]: Allen (2/10)

[Profession]: Lv30 Alchemist

[Lv10 Decompose: Can decompose and restore processed items.]

[Lv5 Refine: Can refine and purify decomposed and restored materials.]

[Alchemy Heart Lv10: Improves skills through knowledge accumulation, with bonus effects for creation and manufacturing skills.]

[Material Science Lv1: Masters basic properties through contact with different materials.]

[Pharmacology Lv1: Masters medicinal effects through contact with different drugs.]

[Pharmacy Lv1: Researches and refines potion-making processes, reducing failure rates.]

[Engineering Lv5: Based on personal knowledge, has insight into the operating principles of mechanical structures.]

[Forging Lv1: Increases levels in forging and manufacturing; masters more ways to alter material structures as levels increase.]

[Sculpting Lv1: Processes the shaping and analysis of elements, understanding more ways to utilize energy.]

[Enchanting Lv1: Attaches understood energies to needed substances.]

[Time]: Hydra, 1940.

[Requirement]: Current profession at Lv120, can return to original timeline.

Currently, at Allen's level, it would take a month to level up by just decomposing trash.

So, he began preparations to leave.

Over three months, he frantically absorbed knowledge. Following the memory of a classic AK rifle, Allen drawing the blueprints was child's play.

The next day, Wilson arrived at the office early.

While organizing files on his desk, he spotted an unfamiliar blueprint.

"Who's been messing with my desk?"

Most researchers disliked others touching their workstations. Even if things appeared to be piled up haphazardly, they were arranged in a way that was convenient for them, and they were unwilling to be forced into changes.

Wilson picked up the blueprint, his eyes filled with disdain. "What kind of garbage is this drawing?"

Focused on researching bolt-action rifles, he looked at the AK rifle with its entirely new mechanical structure and felt a subconscious, instinctive resistance and contempt.

Looking again, Wilson frowned slightly.

Looking a third time, Wilson's eyes widened.

Following this, his expression gradually turned to shock.

He then stood up, glanced around vigilantly towards the door, and then quietly closed it.

Meanwhile, at the corner, Allen poked half his head out, a sinister smile gradually blooming on his face.

"He took the bait. He really took the bait."

Just then, a passing researcher glanced at him but paid him no mind, dismissing Allen's erratic behavior.

At the Weapons Development Bureau, everyone tacitly ignored his unconventional actions.

If he hadn't lacked violent tendencies, he would have been locked up in a mental health center long ago.

Within a week, Wilson reached his peak moment.

He presented the blueprints to the Soviet Union, which immediately received attention. They worked overtime to produce a prototype, and after specialized performance testing, it was favored by the military on the spot.

As a result, his honor and status were greatly satisfied.

"Arsen, congratulations on your promotion to Deputy Director."

Allen grabbed a gecko and placed it on the table, saying, "I don't have much of a gift. I caught this Pokemon on my way here; I remember you quite like eating them."

"Allen, please knock before entering."

Wilson straightened his posture, his tone lacking some of its former warmth.

"Allen, there are some things you can't handle."

Allen stood up disappointed and walked to the door, pausing to wait for Wilson to speak.

Wilson just watched him quietly.

Finally, Allen caved first, turning around and saying slyly, "Wilson, you're in danger right now. Someone wants to harm you."

"Who wants to harm me? Who dares to harm me?"

At this moment, Wilson was full of confidence. Not only had his status improved, but he also had the attention of high-level national officials. Who would dare to defy the world?

"It's not that hard to harm you. They can just expose that you didn't draw the blueprints," Allen said directly.

"How could you..."

Wilson's expression froze, and he quickly changed the subject: "Don't talk nonsense. I earn my living with my skills."

Allen patted his shoulder, picked his nose, and said, "Do I need to tell you how much you're worth?"

At this, Wilson's face turned extremely grim. He got up, closed the door first, and then pulled down the blinds.

"Allen, who wants to harm me?"

Wilson tempted him: "If you help me, I'll definitely give you many benefits."

Allen said righteously, "I, Allen, have always stabbed my friends in the back. I would never betray a friend."

"A few nights ago, I couldn't sleep and went out to catch Pokemon. Guess what happened?"

"What happened?"

"I saw two shifty men having an affair."

"..."

"The key thing is they were making noise in your office. I thought, 'This is so exciting, I have to butt in.'"

"Is that true?"

"Of course not. I stuck to the door and eavesdropped. They were saying Wilson is old and has no skills. They're planning to frame you and make you step aside so that the director's nephew can take your place."

Wilson looked at Allen's serious expression and felt it wasn't fake.

The system in the Su Nation had elements of nepotism, and he had already started to believe it.

"Thank you, Allen. I'm so glad I have you."

Wilson patted Allen's shoulder with sincere eyes and cautioned, "You absolutely cannot tell anyone about this."

"Don't worry, I'm the most discreet. I haven't even told anyone I'm Qin Shi Huang," Allen said confidently.

Wilson trusted no one now, and a look of determination flashed in his eyes.

The next day.

People's Park.

A middle-aged man in a trench coat and hat sat on a park bench.

Wilson walked over as if taking a stroll, sat down naturally, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and politely offered one. "Do you smoke?"

"No, thank you."

After one cigarette burned out, Wilson slowly began, "I agree to your terms."

"When do we depart?"

The middle-aged man looked straight ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

"The sooner the better. I don't want to stay here a moment longer," Wilson admitted.

Yesterday, after hearing the truth from Allen, he had been constantly afraid, worried about dying without understanding why. Thus, his first thought was of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Because of the AK rifle's fame, Wilson had naturally become a target of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention.

Previously, he could dismiss it, but now he felt that the Su Nation was a crematorium, capable of reducing him to ashes at any moment.

"The earliest is tomorrow night at nine. Someone will come to meet you."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stood up, and Wilson also stood and walked in another direction.

They didn't realize that there were actually three people on the bench. Allen had been eavesdropping in stealth mode the entire time.