Walking Daddy

Chapter 167
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Chapter 167

“I guess that’s it?” I said with a sigh.

My entire body was covered with zombie blood from taking care of the mad, frenzied zombies. It took more than just crushing their skulls to deal with them completely; their chopped limbs still wriggled like earthworms. I had to crush every bone in their body to make them stop moving.

As I collected myself, I counted the number of zombies I had taken care of. I noticed that I had taken care of about two thousand or so. And in the process, I’d lost five stage-one mutants. Most of the stage-one mutants had gone down when they let their guard down.

Since the zombies didn’t die even after their skulls were crushed, there had been many times when the zombies on the ground would grab onto our lower bodies. Once any of my mutants lost their balance and fell to the ground, they would not be able to resist the pressure from the attacking zombies and would eventually succumb.

I had only lost three stage-one mutants while dealing with the two thousand zombies that were under the control of the boss of the Family. This time, though, I’d lost five of them merely fighting street zombies. These new zombies possessed a madness that gave them overwhelming strength, stamina, and intelligence.

This was a tragedy borne from mine and my mutants’ carelessness.

As the fight dragged on, the remaining ten mutants began to understand the characteristics of these new zombies, along with what they were capable of. Thanks to their ability to learn, they eventually learned how to take care of them. After that, we managed to pick up our pace, but it still seemed like we’d fought non-stop for about an hour.

I wiped the blood of the slain zombies from my face and checked on how my underlings were doing. The surviving stage-one mutants were shoving the wriggling zombies into their mouths. As they ate the zombies, they restored their damaged body parts and seemed to get stronger than before. Their muscles thickened, and the color of their skin turned grayish brown.

Just as Ji-Eun had become stronger after eating zombies in Jayang-dong when she was still a stage-one mutant, the ten surviving mutants also became stronger. Unfortunately, none of them looked like they would evolve into a stage-two mutant. Perhaps there weren’t any zombies that shared the same desire as them.

I took a deep breath and let it out, then gave orders to my underlings.

“All of you wait here.”

Kiaaa-

The stage-one mutants growled from their throats and looked up into the sky. I made my way through the dead zombie bodies and headed for the Brain Research Institute. Given the number of zombies gathered in the plaza, I assumed that the situation inside wouldn’t be any better.

I’d been thinking of going back to Ansim Station after clearing the area outside, but now that I was here, I had to check the interior as well. Since a new type of zombie had appeared around the Brain Research Institute, there must have been some related research being conducted here.

I needed to figure out what kind of research the researchers here were conducting and get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Just as I expected, the new breed of zombies were present inside as well. I searched every nook and cranny and beat all of them to death, since they mercilessly attacked anyone they saw.

All of a sudden, a room that was labeled ‘Researcher's Rest Area’ caught my eye. I carefully opened the door and saw two coats and a desk. Next to that, I saw a coffee maker, and traces that someone had used it rather recently.

Until about fifteen days ago, Daegu had still been a civilized place. The lab seemed to be littered with objects and items that showed traces of recent use. I went through the desk and the cabinets, pulling out every document that seemed to contain useful information.

I picked out a notebook and a thick stack of papers from a half-open drawer. The notebook was so worn out that I couldn’t even imagine how many times it had been used. When I sat down in front of the desk and opened the notebook to the front page, I knew at once what this notebook was.

It had a name on it. The name was Choi Seong-Won. It was his journal. I noticed that his diary contained entries from the past couple of months. Since the stacks of papers that were with the journal contained a lot of medical jargon that I couldn’t understand, I decided to put them aside in the meantime and read through the journal first.

The first part of the journal went back to May, when the virus first spread.

- I can tell that something’s going on from the conversations the soldiers are having. Word went around that the Central Disease Control’s attempt at a quarantine failed. I never thought I would hear that Seoul would fall in my lifetime. I wonder where Korea is headed to.

In concise sentences, he wrote out his thoughts for each day. In fact, he had written something every day, and did not miss out on any details of that particular day’s situation.

- I lost contact with my graduate school classmate in Daejeon. He was the guy that teased me a lot when I first got assigned to Daegu. Does this mean that Daejeon has fallen as well? He was a smart guy. Hopefully he's alive.

- I think Daegu is still safe. Soldiers are checking on the survivors day and night. They’ve set up barbed wire fences and declared isolation from the outside world. But I’m curious how they’ll act once food runs out…

- No significant progress with the research. I wonder if there’s a problem with the conventional approach? I’ll try a different approach tomorrow.

- In the process of obtaining samples, a young soldier got infected with the virus. He took twelve seconds to transform. I cannot forget the look the young man had as he struggled in pain and cried out for help. All I could do was strap his limbs to the lab bed.

At the end of the last sentence, the words ‘I’m sorry’ had been erased away, but the marks were still slightly visible. I wet my parched lips and continued reading.

- The young man—who was a human yesterday, but is now a research sample—is glaring at me. I wonder if he resents me or hates me. The longer I stay human, the more sinful I feel.

- Cells died overnight. It’s definitely different from growing cancer cells. They’re more contagious than cancer cells, but they die easily without any stimulation.

- Does this virus have an Rt value (Effective Reproduction Number)? I can’t figure out why it spread in the first place. Nothing’s certain; neither the pathogenesis, the host, nor the environment. How are we supposed to measure its propagation capacity?

- Abnormal symptoms appeared in cells that I thought were dead. They’re dead, but they’re showing behavioral patterns. I don't know how to assess this situation.

The first part of the journal contained more information related to the situation in Daegu than the virus research. Since I wanted to know more about the new zombies, I quickly flipped through the pages to find the part where he actually started talking about the research. According to the dates he had listed, it seemed like the overall research plan had started to come together only in September.

- The changes in serotonin have been identified as the source of the virus. Serotonin is involved in emotional changes, appetite, sleep, and muscle contraction functions, and is closely related to one’s thinking. It affects the memory and learning ability, and is involved in hemostasis and blood-clotting reactions. It also acts as an important regulator for one’s appetite and food selection; when serotonin levels decrease, one’s appetite increases.

Serotonin... I had a vague memory of hearing it before. I think the best way to describe it was that it was a happy compound. I remember hearing that serotonin was secreted when humans felt happy. Reading that the zombie apocalypse was caused by serotonin seemed rather contradictory.

I scratched my sideburns as I continued to read the journal.

- An infected individual faces difficulties using their cognitive functions and tends toward violence, and seems to experience endless hunger. In addition, they undergo changes in muscle contraction and have sleep function disorders. I believe this has to do with the change in the levels of serotonin. It’s baby steps right now, but there seems to be potential in this.

- I found another clue besides serotonin. The endogenous opioid peptide produced in the pituitary gland and hypothalamus of vertebrates, is an endorphin that acts as a neurotransmitter.

- Endorphins are released during exercise, excitement, and pain, and exist as neurotransmitters in the pain transmission pathway of the brain. It has the same analgesic effect as morphine, which improves moods and reduces pain.

- Endorphins are natural opioids produced in the body. In the case of the B-endorphin, it travels to the spinal cord and brain, and when it is excessively secreted, it leads to the complete numbing of pain. This is why the infected do not feel pain. All of the infected are secreting excessive amounts of endorphins even when they aren’t exercising.

I then wondered if the reason why we zombies could accelerate our blood flow was because of the endorphins within us. I also realized that reading about the zombie virus from a scientific perspective was pretty interesting. I quietly rubbed my chin and continued to flip through the pages. As I neared the end of the journal, though, I noticed that the contents had changed.

- The expected happened. The soldiers have begun distributing the food unequally now that we are facing a shortage. I was given more food than others because I’m a researcher. I wonder if this is morally right.

- The children are starving. When I handed one of my canned food to a crying child, the military commander dragged me away. He told me this: “Don’t feed them.” Are you treating people like livestock?

- Giving out food to the children became the trigger. The people stood up, protesting that the researchers and soldiers were taking abnormally large portions of food. I don’t know what to do. I think this is all because of me. People are fighting because of me.

- There’s been shooting for the past couple of days. The researchers have been divided into two groups. Those that followed the soldiers, and those that side with the common people. I’m being treated as an incompetent researcher, and do not belong anywhere.

- What’s the point of working like a dog? World peace? The future of mankind? After seeing what’s been happening outside the laboratory with my own eyes, I’m just more confused. Everyone’s crazy. Humans were their own enemy, not the zombies. I’m… I’m not sure what virus I’m fighting against anymore.

- Professor Kang went out of the lab to calm everyone down. We told Professor Kang to not go out, but Professor Kang insisted. I hope Professor Kang comes back safely…

- I don't know how many days have passed. We’ve already waited for so long, and it doesn't seem like Professor Kang is going to come back any time soon. There are only four researchers left here now, including myself. What should we do?

When I tried to turn to the next page, the pages did not want to separate. They seemed to be stuck together, as though wet. I opened the pages carefully so that I wouldn’t tear the journal. The pages were covered in scribbles written in ink. It was also covered with blood stains.

I swallowed and read the page with the blood stains.

- All beings that go against the laws of nature must die. Everyone, whether human or zombie, is evil. They shouldn’t exist in the future. They're all bastards.

The further into the journal I got, I began to see drawings of demonic figures. He had traced over the drawings multiple times, and ink was splattered all over the page. Vulgarities were scrawled all over the pages, which were stained with blood. The more I flipped through the journal, the more of the same vulgarities I saw, scribbled closer together, word after word. These were the traces of a man who had gone insane, and was engulfed in madness.

I closed the journal, feeling bitter and confused. My chest felt abnormally tight. After calming myself down, I opened it to the last page. It was written about fifthteen days ago.

- Human emotions are sometimes irrational, so I fear the incomprehensible. I understand everything, and I now have a solid foundation, sound logic. When humans disappear, the zombies will disappear, and when the zombies disappear, a new cycle of nature will begin.

Unlike the previous pages, the writing on this page was neat, and the thoughts were laid out in proper sentences. But instead of feeling relieved, I felt chills run down my spine at his sudden change. When someone who had gone half-mad came back to their senses…It was reason to worry, rather than to feel relieved.

I let out a deep sigh and continued reading.

- I will not fight against the foolish humans. They are not willing to talk, and those who have lost their ability to reason are no different from zombies. I will go beyond them and give them the rest they need.

- My colleagues have agreed. The research is done, as Professor Kang is gone.

- We realized the meaning of this research only after Professor Kang's death.

- Completed the vaccine.

Something else was written beneath the last sentence, something that I couldn’t quite understand. It seemed like he had marked out the research process, but I couldn't understand it because of my lack of knowledge. However, I could vaguely tell that the stack of papers I’d put aside earlier was related to this last section of the journal.

I took everything with me and left the Brain Research Institute. I planned on showing all of this to Tommy and ask him if he could figure out the work this person had done. If their research had given birth to a new type of zombie, there could still be new types of zombies somewhere in Daegu. And if these symptoms that the new zombies had were contagious to the ordinary zombies, we could not brush it aside.

If their madness spread like a virus... It would change not only Korea, but the entire Asian continent. And if that were to happen, the survivors would no longer be able to survive on their own.

I hurried back to Ansim Station, hoping that the worst was not ahead of us.

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