Ch.106Chapter 14. Even a Zombie Can Understand (1)

# Chapter 14. Even Zombies Can Understand

The four-story research facility is the tallest building in this area.

Moreover, instead of iron railings on the rooftop, they built walls about chest-high. After checking all the surrounding buildings, I confirmed that it’s impossible to see what’s happening on the research facility’s roof.

“This should be safe enough.”

That meant the three of us could freely rest and move around on the rooftop.

In these times—where military police glare at you in human protection zones, and zombies leisurely stroll through wheat fields in non-protected areas—”sunbathing without worrying about others” is truly an extraordinary luxury.

Of course, we had to worry about zombie birds, but they travel in large, noisy flocks that are hard to miss, so we just need to avoid them.

And now, I’m laying out a large sheet of vinyl on the rooftop. I placed bricks at the corners to spread it flat, then emptied soil from flowerpots collected from nearby houses and buildings.

The soil had hardened after being neglected for so long, with no moisture left. I tapped it with a shovel to break up the clumps and removed dead plant leaves.

Camilla brought another flowerpot, while Cassandra carried a petri dish. Camilla broke up the soil from her pot and spread it widely on the vinyl, just as I had done, while Cassandra scooped soil into her dish.

With three people working together, the job finished quickly. After dusting off our hands, we headed to the shade next to the water tank room in the middle of the rooftop. We flopped down on the pre-installed sun beds.

“Feels like we’re at the beach.”

When I muttered quietly, Camilla burst out laughing.

“Want to check out the lakeside resort? It’s quite beautiful in the evening.”

By lakeside, she meant the Liberation Army training center we had used as our base camp before coming here.

“There was a resort there?”

“Of course. If you go a bit further up, there’s a resort for rich people. It’s usually empty, but people come to enjoy it on weekends or holidays.”

If we could sunbathe like this there, it wouldn’t be bad. I thought of the white bikini in my carrier. It would surely look pretty.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh? Now?”

Cassandra, who had been half-asleep, woke up with a start.

“Not now. We need to cultivate the field first. By the way, are you actually sleeping?”

“I’m getting enough sleep.”

But coming from a woman who was yawning widely with dark circles under her eyes, it wasn’t very convincing.

“Cassandra needs to finish her work quickly…”

But Cassandra couldn’t even finish her sentence before falling fast asleep. Camilla whispered:

“See? It was good to bring her here.”

* * * * *

Once it became clear we’d be staying here for a while, we had to prepare many things. The most urgent issues were food and water.

Actually, I wasn’t too worried about water.

There’s a large water tank on the building’s roof. Even without electricity, the only problem is that the hot water boiler doesn’t work, so we don’t have hot water, but the supply itself isn’t affected.

There was a faint chemical smell from the disinfectant used to prevent contamination, but that’s fine. We could always boil it if necessary. Plus, we had bottled water and drinks from convenience stores and supermarkets, so we had enough liquid for now.

The key issue was food.

The majority of our food supply consists of canned goods from Cybele Corporation.

The problem is that these cans contain the hunger-inducing virus, so we can’t eat them as is—they need to be cooked.

In a human non-protected zone where you get hungrier just by breathing, this disadvantage was even more significant.

Above all, they taste awful. Only after extensive recombination-level cooking do they become palatable enough not to make you feel sick.

Additionally, canned food is primarily meant as insurance. It’s something you can “safely eat” even in the worst situations.

I felt subtly uncomfortable every time I opened one. It was that same uneasiness you get when calculating how much money has been automatically deducted from your account.

That’s why we decided to grow crops. But we couldn’t just use any soil. Even the earth here is contaminated.

After much deliberation, we decided to prepare as diverse a range of soil as possible. Some from flowerpots, some from wheat fields, and some from bags and sacks sold at flower shops. We’d use half of it as is, and the other half would be sun-dried for sterilization like we were doing now.

Meanwhile, Camilla deliberately dragged Cassandra out. She wouldn’t leave her computer at all.

“But Cassandra needs to finish this work quickly…”

Cassandra was still engrossed in optimizing the database search, refusing to listen. So I made this suggestion:

“Could you at least help us determine which soil is safest for growing plants, or which is unsuitable? Since we’re experimenting anyway, having an expert would be better.”

“Well, Cassandra doesn’t really know much about that…”

“Maybe you could find a way to neutralize the hunger virus.”

“…Well, but…”

She seemed about to say something, but Cassandra shook her head.

“Alright. I’ll help.”

And finally, she emerged from the dark room, only to collapse and fall asleep on the warm rooftop. Camilla compassionately adjusted Cassandra’s awkwardly bent neck to a more comfortable position.

“She barely sleeps.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. She keeps muttering while staring at her laptop. Sometimes she writes things down on paper. She’s so focused that she barely responds when called. And she sweats so much…”

In fact, Cassandra is working while enduring Camilla’s rigorous training.

However, the rigor isn’t focused on strength and endurance like for me and Camilla. It’s about correcting her posture, which has become misaligned from sitting at a desk too much.

So it’s not like “bothering a busy person and making them waste energy.” The world going to hell is bad enough—how much more miserable would it be with turtle neck syndrome too?

Cassandra is human, and humans need rest. Even machines break down if run continuously. Camilla and I looked down proudly at Cassandra, who was now snoring lightly.

But this leisure was short-lived.

“Camilla, can you watch Cassandra? I’m going to take out the trash. It’s pretty full.”

“Give me a kiss before you go.”

I got up and kissed her. Camilla grabbed my collar, pulled me close, and asked:

“What color are you wearing today?”

“Forsythia yellow?”

“Oh, you’re right?”

“I caught a glimpse when you bent over to spread the soil earlier. It showed through the gap at your neck.”

“Pervert.”

Camilla laughed and kissed my cheek.

It’s our little game. When Camilla wears the underwear I picked, it means she wants to meet that night. If not, it means she wants to rest today.

Of course, as always, we both changed our minds on a whim sometimes.

Hmm, Cassandra stirred. I jumped back startled, but Camilla squeezed my butt firmly.

“Come back soon.”

* * * * *

I went downstairs to gather my equipment.

A silenced 9mm Glock pistol, an MP9 submachine gun with a silencer that I hoped I wouldn’t need to use. A tactical vest with a water bottle and energy bars, a balaclava, a backpack, trash bundles, and a mobile phone.

Stockpiling trash is insane. Keeping it inside the building creates hygiene issues, and piling it outside is practically shouting, “People live here, please come loot us.”

So instead, I securely tied it to both sides of my electric bicycle and would dispose of it bit by bit on the streets, letting wind and rain scatter it naturally.

Zombies standing in the distance approached me. Some walked so fast it was almost like running.

For those ones, I threw specially prepared, tightly bundled cans. When they hit with a thud, causing blood to flow from foreheads and bodies, the zombies would start fighting with each other, trying to devour one another.

Though I’d already disposed of all the trash, I deliberately rode my bicycle a bit further. I needed to organize my thoughts, and there were things I needed to do without the two women knowing.

Cassandra is working almost without sleep, trying to find a cure and vaccine. Camilla, while feeling sorry for Cassandra, couldn’t hide her subtle expectations.

At night, when we covered each other instead of using blankets, comforting each other with our hands and bodies, Camilla would whisper softly:

“Johan. All this will pass too, right?”

“Of course.”

“It has to pass. These days can’t continue forever. It doesn’t make sense.”

But this world is “set up that way.” The major updates to the Erysichthon Protocol didn’t include anything about a cure, and even though I installed mods while half-asleep, I didn’t install any cure-related ones.

So Cassandra is essentially working in vain.

But what keeps Camilla, Cassandra, and people in this world going is hope. The hope that all this will someday pass, and we can return to how things were before.

Perhaps I’m the only one in this world who knows that catastrophe is certain.

Cassandra might eventually find the answer. That this world can never get better. That the world has already completely changed.

Of course, Cassandra won’t accept it. She’s stubborn in her own peculiar way. And I know how much a smart person can go mad when they become obstinate.

When I was alone before, I didn’t care either way, but now the situation is different. At least around me, I don’t want such things to happen.

That’s why I’ve come to cherish my women. But just as they have things they can’t tell me, I have things I can’t tell them.

If we were farther apart, it might be different, but at times like this, it’s a bit frustrating.

“What should I do?”

Eventually, I came to this distant place.

A small village with about five houses. The houses had all collapsed in a fire, but somehow one armchair remained relatively intact.

I sat in the chair, took out my mobile phone, and sent a message.

– Are you busy?

Five minutes later, a call came in. It was Letty. Fortunately, it wasn’t a video call. Strangely, whenever Letty made video calls, she tended to take off her top, which was often awkward.