Ch.11Chapter 2. Erysichthon Protocol (End)

Crack, crack-crack.

The creature’s beak dug into the window frame. I snapped back to my senses. I grabbed a dry towel to cover my mouth and picked up a metal skewer. One. Two. Three. I cracked the window open slightly. The creature pushed its head in.

Thunk.

The bird blinked. Its skull was thicker than I expected, so I couldn’t pierce through it completely, but I threw it out with the skewer still embedded before any blood could drip. I slammed the window shut.

“KRAAAW! KIAAAA!”

Like a crow’s head. It seems to have finally realized what happened to it.

Even with a metal skewer stuck in its head, the creature still flapped its wings as it smashed its head into the ground.

As if it could still fly, as if begging for one last chance, as if appealing to the heavens. Even this thing thinks it’s something special.

The creature that had been dripping blood like squeezed grape juice finally collapsed.

Then the sky darkened.

Wondering if it was clouds, I looked toward the horizon.

Dark clouds were rolling in.

Something was strange.

While white clouds were moving away, those dark clouds were flying against the wind, coming toward me. Wriggling, squirming, yet determinedly crawling forward.

They were birds.

A flock of birds.

A murder of crows covering the sky faster than an eyelid can blink!

A cloud that caws instead of thundering and drops feathers instead of rain. I can see the trees trembling. They already know what’s about to happen. This isn’t their first time!

I backed away from the window and pulled down the curtain. Gripping my gun and knife tightly, I pressed against the wall. My plan is to not react at all, but to smash any head that pokes through and then flee to another room.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

The noise, heavier than earplugs, hammers into my eardrums.

Ferocious screams. Desperate shouts. The sounds of zombies. The noisy flapping of birds, zombies running here and there, crashing their heads against trees. In exchange for giving wings, they take eyes. In exchange for broken beaks, they take flesh.

Sometimes ears can see better than eyes. Now is such a time.

Sound play is always useful. In a world where various sounds become information and hints for survival, for me who has learned to distinguish different sounds with disgust, the situation outside is clearer than if I were seeing it with my eyes.

I need to focus.

I shouldn’t pay attention to each and every sound. It’s like driving. Everything must be in moderation. The pressure on the pedal, the timing of the brake, the movement of the car behind, the stationary state of the car ahead, when the traffic light changes, whether someone might dash out from that alley.

If I consider every situation one by one, I’ll have a nervous breakdown. Keep all those things in mind and anticipate them, but focus only on what’s right in front of me.

Hoo. Hoo. I take deep breaths. I can’t let my mind wander.

I ignore the sound of flapping wings. I ignore the sound of them hitting the window frame. The clang of metal falling. For now, I also ignore the fact that another flock of crows is tearing apart the zombie crow I just killed.

From the wave of information pouring in, I grasp one thing to think about.

‘The virus in this world infects animals too.’

“The Erysichthon Protocol” allows you to set different pathogen transmission methods for each playthrough. Even if you set initial values, there are options to change them during gameplay.

The transmission methods are varied. From airborne transmission, waterborne transmission, transmission through physical contact or droplet contact within a certain distance, to transmission through contaminated food.

The most vicious options are “All Random Transmission Methods” and “Multiple Infection Transmission.” Respiratory infection and contaminated water infection options can be activated simultaneously, or all options can be turned on at once.

That’s why I need to know how infection occurs. Only then can I determine what I should and shouldn’t do.

For example, in an airborne transmission situation, wearing masks is mandatory, and firearms are essential. You need to shoot before they get close. Since firing a gun reveals your position, the overall dynamic flows toward base defense and occupation.

If transmission is only through water, much more diverse gameplay is possible. Since you only need to boil and disinfect water before drinking, the risk of infection is relatively low even if zombies scratch or bite you. In this case, it’s possible to play like a thief, hiding and assassinating.

But I don’t know this world’s method. Even if the humans here have figured it out, I shouldn’t take it at face value. They might not have discovered everything, or evolution might have occurred, making what was true before no longer applicable.

That’s why I’ve been using methods like burning them or making them fight each other.

And just now, I found one puzzle piece.

‘Zoonotic Infection Option.’

It means humans and animals can transmit the virus to each other. Viruses that cross species like this are difficult to defeat.

No matter how many human no-protection zones are established, how can you control birds that fly? Even if you ban animal entry, can you indefinitely block the movement of vehicles contaminated with the virus?

Complete isolation and eradication are difficult with zoonotic infections. No matter how much you vaccinate people and livestock, wild animals can still carry the pathogen. The virus will constantly jump between these hosts, eventually breaking through the immune system.

But what’s even worse is infinite mutation. Temporary winner-takes-all through endless competition between variants. And as the word “temporary” suggests, the subsequent betrayal.

Like humans, viruses do everything to survive. The problem is that they also know their success rate is low.

So they do the same thing I do.

Just as I create many traps and snares knowing zombies don’t fall for them easily, they also don’t stop trying different approaches. They constantly mutate, trying somehow to increase their transmission power and infection rate.

And there are countless people and animals, aren’t there? There are plenty of testing grounds. It’s an infinite recursion of raising something from level 1 to max level with care, then sending it to another stage to survive.

What happens when returners meet returners? Then they fight to the death, or one devours the other. The one that survives, the one that proves its superiority, eventually becomes another generation.

If zoonotic infection is turned on, “Rapid Zombie Virus Mutation” is likely turned on as well. The two usually come as a set.

If not, the solution is relatively simple.

But if it is, the doom of this world is almost certain.

The zombie virus in this world will continuously evolve. As if testing the limits of humanity, it will advance just enough to be caught up with.

And finally, at the moment humans reveal their limitations, it will break through like a tank through weak defenses. It will never stop until it finally dominates the world.

Just as humans stubbornly survive, so will the virus. It’s a survival method already verified through countless real-world tests.

And I’ve enjoyed these kinds of survival games countless times until now.

“…Either way, isn’t it the way I enjoyed playing?”

Thinking about it that way, it’s not so bad.

* * * * *

It was quite a while before I packed my things and went outside. It was pleasantly quiet and peaceful.

As expected.

The birds had eaten all the zombies. The zombies, with no flesh left, lay limp like puppets with cut strings, unable to move.

Even the lighter parts, like finger or toe bones, were gone. The heavier parts, like ribs or skulls, were left behind.

Everything else had been cleanly picked off. Or… carried away in beaks. The cloud I saw before leaving was flying lower than when it arrived.

I think I understand now why there were no insect sounds in the forest, why zombies moved in groups. They must have known that’s how to survive. It’s not intelligence. It’s instinct.

Eating is instinct, not intelligence. Those zombies don’t have concepts like “unity is strength.” If blood flows, if something is judged as food, they’ll happily munch on what was beside them just a moment ago.

It’s a kind of obviousness. Like seeking shade to avoid rain, sleeping when tired, or eating when hungry, they “instinctively” know that being in groups increases survival chances compared to being alone. The automatic program for survival continues to operate even when reason is paralyzed.

Humans are this tenacious.

I returned to the container. Everything was as I left it. I thought I might see at least one looter, but seeing the situation around here, it seems difficult to survive alone.

Of course, I’m not just any ordinary human.

Before preparing to leave, I quickly skimmed through the forest keeper’s meticulous scrapbook. I had brought it hoping there might be useful information. Even if not needed, it could at least serve as kindling, so I folded it carefully.

The most useful information was about Hampton City, where I was supposed to meet that guy Hans. Perhaps because it was the closest major city from here, there was a lot of information about Hampton.

There was content about the relatively affordable old town, or how the mayor resigned after a major corruption scandal broke out in Hampton, which was in the midst of post-war reconstruction.

There was also an article with underlines despite having no special content. It was about a children’s speech contest condemning the violence of Elza liberation activists. The face of the child who won first prize was circled in red pencil. Next to it was written, “our granddaughter.”

On the other hand, some were circled in black with curses written beside them. One was about frequent violent crimes in the area from this forest to Hampton. One of them was about a biker gang.

“Bastard veterans who waste bullets without doing anything worthwhile.”

The last article was about a suddenly imposed lockdown. It said that Hampton City was under lockdown due to concerns about a recent epidemic.

Nothing not affiliated with a national agency can enter or leave Hampton. The newspaper stated, “This is a temporary measure to curb the epidemic and is not expected to last more than a week,” and “We expect a high level of participation from the people of the Elza Independent Republic.”

I recall the map.

North of the transmission tower forest is Lambert Village. It’s a place with a fairly large reservoir, where forest, factory, and mansion blend well together.

Further up from there is a factory complex. There’s also a food factory, so those short on food often visit there. The problem is that it’s built on completely open ground, making it perfect for getting shot.

But judging from the current article, it’s highly likely that gangsters have taken over both the food factory and Lambert Village.

The problem is that I don’t know exactly what the situation is…

“If you don’t know, you should ask.”

I turned on my mobile phone. It’s still in a no-service area, but messages kept coming in. They’re about disasters.

“Maintain personal hygiene! Strictly adhere to movement reporting! Your small cooperation creates a safe country!”

“Do not approach dead wildlife carelessly. You may be attacked by dangerous predators!”

The fingerprint recognition panel on the briefcase still flashes red. If that con man is right, I’m being tracked right now. The fact that these messages are coming in despite being in a no-service area might mean this mobile phone is also being hacked.

That’s actually good news. The more public the bidding, the higher the value of the briefcase.

Buzz.

Right. A new message has arrived.

Message from 8qawsed8: Are you selling the briefcase?

I can’t believe someone would send such a lazy message.