Ch.100Chapter 13. Superiority (7)

The zombies follow the truck, ambling along.

Rather than desperately pursuing prey, it felt more like they were just mindlessly following something that happened to be moving. Like neighborhood dogs chasing after a running child without any particular thought.

Each time, I deliberately slowed the truck’s speed while turning around building corners. It was better to circle around the same area than to speed away quickly.

Eventually, the hungry zombies stopped following. Though it took some time, the truck and our loot were enough to bring back to the lab. No need to drag zombies along too.

I glance sideways at Camilla in the passenger seat.

She holds a sniper rifle ready to fire in one hand while scanning the surroundings with binoculars in the other. Occasionally, she puts down the gun and scribbles something on a notepad resting on her thigh.

“What are you writing?”

Camilla only answered after finishing her notes.

“I’m marking places with good visibility. Since we’ll be staying here for a while, I should know what’s around us.”

A typical sniper’s thinking. Come to think of it, we’re now more defenders than attackers.

I should consider keeping the truck partially loaded so we can leave at any moment if needed.

“By the way, Johan. About earlier, when you threw that handkerchief wrapped around a stone—why did you do that?”

“Remember how they said the virus in my body synthesizes something that ‘stimulates emotions’? I got curious. Not just how effective it is, but whether it makes any sense at all. What did you think?”

“From what I saw, it didn’t have that strong an effect on the human zombies. It seemed to work much better on the zombie dog. That thing got pretty excited and went wild.”

“Seems a bit weak for practical use.”

I said it without much thought, but Camilla’s face hardened.

“What’s wrong?”

After hesitating for a while, Camilla finally turned her head away.

“Nothing. Let’s talk later. When we get back, okay?”

Just then, I spotted a zombie standing with its mouth hanging open. I nodded.

* * * * *

I prepared dinner. Today, we have quite abundant ingredients.

I cooked in the research annex on the third floor, which was perfect as a kitchen with its sink, LPG gas range, and ventilation system. Despite its strange name, it’s essentially a break room.

“Wow. Smells delicious.”

Cassandra, now changed into casual clothes, hovers beside me.

Though she’s wearing an ordinary t-shirt, her large chest makes it ride up, exposing her navel. Over it, she wears a gray zip-up hoodie, but the zipper remains undone, caught on her chest.

“Come to think of it, I forgot something important. Are there any foods you can’t eat? Any allergies?”

“I eat everything. I’m not picky at all. Whatever it is, it’ll taste better than the Administration Bureau’s cafeteria. Kibele Company handled the meals there. I couldn’t even dream of something like this.”

As she speaks, she tries to sneakily reach for the flour pancake.

“That’s still hot.”

“Eek!”

Did she think she wouldn’t get caught?

“That’s just flour mixed with water and cooked flat, so it won’t taste good by itself. Let it cool a bit and roll it up with other ingredients, and it’ll be much better.

By the way, Cassandra, what do you think about growing some simple crops? I’ve got some seeds I acquired earlier. Are you even listening to me?”

“…Cassandra wants to take this to go. I’ll eat one less later. I’m so hungry my brain isn’t working properly. I need fuel.”

Cassandra rubs her lower belly with her palm. Fortunately, Camilla is still washing up. And anyway, I made plenty, so it’s fine if she takes one.

“Alright then. Wash your hands first.”

It’s literally just salt, sugar, flour, and water mixed together—no eggs, no fermentation. That’s why I prepared various fillings on the side.

Cassandra picks up a long sausage, places it on the bread, drizzles mustard sauce over it, and rolls it up. Then takes a big bite.

“Mmm. Wow mmm…”

She opens her mouth wide for a bite, chews thoroughly, and swallows with a gulp. Mustard smears around her lips and mouth.

Finally, she licks her fingers clean of the sauce with a slurp. It’s always nice when someone enjoys your cooking.

“Mmm, delicious. Mmm. Mmm. First of all, you shouldn’t use soil from the ground. It’s likely contaminated. If you must use it, wash it and disinfect it in sunlight.

Better to use bagged soil from gardening stores. Hydroponics would be good too, but that’s a bit tricky. And it’s better to get new seeds each time.”

“Really? Can’t we get them from existing crops?”

“Mmm, they’re likely to mutate. Regardless of the virus. Unless it’s something like seed potatoes that you replant. But where are you planning to grow them?”

“I was thinking of putting some planters on the rooftop.”

If we set up some screens, even if someone saw from the air, they wouldn’t notice. Though in a situation where cars barely run due to fuel shortages, planes and helicopters flying around would be unlikely anyway.

Dinner preparation is complete with the addition of boiled vegetables cut and arranged on plates. It’s something like a kebab—boiled vegetables, sausage, and ham laid out to be rolled up in flour bread.

“Roll them up yourself. Cassandra, can you help me carry these plates to the table?”

“Sure.”

But instead of heading to the table, she stands behind me. I wonder if she’s going to try to lift me up, but suddenly she hugs me from behind.

“…What are you doing?”

“Just happy. Cassandra is happy these days. Content.”

“…Oh, really? That’s good…”

Cassandra’s presence was so intense that it was hard to speak.

“Thank you for listening to me, Johan.”

Wait. What did she say?

“…Cassandra?”

Cassandra herself seems quite surprised. After consistently referring to herself as “Cassandra,” she suddenly used “me.”

Cassandra turns me around. After fidgeting with her lips, she grabs my collar and slowly pulls me toward her.

Her chest touches me before our faces even meet, making me lean back slightly. It was a bit stimulating.

“Will you forget about it?”

“Did something happen?”

“We really do understand each other well.”

Her lips taste of mustard.

* * * * *

During dinner, I briefly told Cassandra about what happened today. Camilla, who had been covering me from behind, filled in the parts I hadn’t seen.

“The zombie dog seemed to react much more sensitively than the zombie humans. Could it be because of its better sense of smell?”

Cassandra nodded at my question.

“That’s highly likely. Moreover, from what you’ve described, the dog seemed to have an attachment to the house. Meanwhile, the humans around seemed to have no desires other than hunger.”

Camilla shook her empty beer can after hearing Cassandra’s words.

“Zombie dogs and zombie humans traveling together. I don’t get it.”

“It’s a recent development. And an interesting one. Just as animals and humans cooperate with each other, the same thing is happening among zombies.”

Well, from my experience, it wasn’t really cooperation. Zombie dogs were zombie dogs, and zombie humans were zombie humans.

I could pit them against each other, but they didn’t have any particular animosity or affection toward one another. So the current situation is unfamiliar to me too.

“Is it a mutation?”

Cassandra shook her head at my question.

“Some researchers say that, but Cassandra thinks differently. Cassandra thinks it might be a product of survival competition.

I think groups that could form strategies defeated those that couldn’t. And that’s something all living beings instinctively possess, even without the virus.

All creatures are designed to prey on something else. It’s instinct. And all creatures naturally consider how to consume more effectively and efficiently.”

“But mutations do occur. I’ve seen ones with abnormally fast-healing wounds. Some will attack even with limbs blown off by gunfire.”

“Those are physical mutations, not mental ones. And even with physical mutations, we haven’t seen three-headed wolves or humans slithering around yet. They generally try to maintain their original form. The virus needs to keep its host alive, after all.”

Thinking about it, she’s right. If the host dies, the virus can’t spread. So it needs to keep the host alive while using it for its own purposes.

“The Cro virus is really vicious. It’s trying to keep its host alive by any means necessary.”

Camilla bowed her head in disgust. Cassandra agreed.

“From the virus’s perspective, we’re like ships.”

“Ships?”

“Yes. Leaking ships that need to be patched up somehow. They need the ship to survive themselves. The problem is that it’s not very pleasant from our perspective.

But since we’re fundamentally ships, they can’t do much more than that. Unless they completely dismantle and rebuild us on land.

So zombie humans with four legs would probably be difficult. That’s beyond what a virus can do.

It just helps wounds heal better, allows the brain to keep functioning despite damage, and enables the host to endure pain and keep moving.”

No. Even that much already seems excessive.

“Hey, Cassandra.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“That thing you said comes from my body, the one that heightens excitement. If the virus strengthens, would that effect become stronger too?”

“Well, we’d need to experiment to know for sure, but I think it’s highly likely.”

“…About that.”

Camilla raised her hand.

“You said my virus and Johan’s are almost identical. Does ‘that’ come from me too?”

“Very faintly. Almost imperceptibly. But that’s how it is so far—we don’t know how it might change in the future. Mutations happen quickly.”

“Then if…”

Before speaking, Camilla drank another can of beer. Come to think of it, she seems to be drinking quite a lot today.

Since settling into life at the lab, we decided not to keep night watch. We’ve added various devices to respond immediately to any dangerous situations.

So we can afford this kind of leisure, but still.

“What is it, Camilla?”

But Camilla couldn’t easily open up.

“…Can it control emotions, or even evoke emotions that weren’t there before? Like suddenly hating someone without reason, or liking someone for no reason at all.”

That actually sounds quite useful.

“Oh, that’s good. If that works, it would make disrupting and controlling zombies much easier, wouldn’t it?”

I meant it as a genuinely good idea, but for some reason, Camilla glares at me.

Why?