Zero Reinforcement Probability
Zero chance of enhancement. Squish squish. It's moist. Even fresh enough that you'd believe it was just sashimi sliced off a live fish. But here's the thing—I have to eat this. Taking a sample myself to leave no evidence is smart. But did they really have to consider chomping and swallowing an entire corpse from a dead body?
Past me, reflect on this. I averted my eyes with effort. My affectionate gaze turned toward the sample room I'd passed. Both options suck, but if I absolutely have to eat something, liquid's the way to go. Like Master Wonhyo and his skull water—maybe if I pretend it's strawberry juice, it'll taste like strawberries.
···Sigh, as if. Rationally, I know I have to eat this grotesque, filthy hunk of meat, but the hurdle's too high. Yeah, I'd rather stab my forearm dozens of times. A bit gross with flesh splattering, but no pain, right? Wait, thinking about it, what I'm doing now is basically slicing off chunks of flesh and eating them myself? This is several times harder and more horrific!
But the harder it is, the greater the reward. Subjectively, it felt like I'd been standing frozen for dozens of minutes. The rotten stench was starting to seep into my hands. And if I didn't get out soon, I'd get anxious. Of course, the doctor was off on a long vacation, so he wouldn't return in just a few dozen minutes.
Exhale··· Here goes. You've got this, Nera. Oh, ooh. This taste?!
Fuck! It's just normally gross and revolting! And the chewy texture doesn't even break down properly—pure agony! Eating it twice might send me across the galaxy. Oh, and maybe it's too big. Even five-year-old kids get full nibbling tiny corpses.
Ahem. Time to clean up. Sample tools already sorted. No leftover flesh or blood around. Just toss the latex gloves, and done!
I left the filthy dark corpse room with light steps. Forgot about the disinfectant spray midway, got some in my eyes—disaster—but somehow made it back to the sample room. Bursting with excitement, I opened the sample room door.
Hehe, midnight snack down, time for bed. A kid's body tires easily···?
"Em···ma?"
Why are you there? Have you been watching me all this time?
A brutally long silence flowed. In that time, countless assumptions flashed and vanished in my head. Why is Emma here? Everyone's eyes were vacant—I figured they'd all lost their minds. No, I definitely confirmed Emma was zoning out into space like the others.
Handling human minds crudely means brainwashing parasites impair cognition. Without orders, she shouldn't be··· waiting here like this···.
I swallowed hard. Heart pounding wildly, but steeling myself, I waved my hand carelessly in front of Emma's eyes. No reaction. If ordered to surveil, she'd restrain me immediately, but Emma stared blankly into space like the other researchers.
A glitch? But a brainwashing parasite glitching? No, not a chip—it's a parasite, so totally possible. In the game, full infection meant obeying orders only, but this is real life, no glitches.
Phew! Lost ten years there. Still suspicious, but seems fine for now. Still uneasy, so bed early tonight.
A deep sleep, and I woke refreshed. Yesterday's anxiety washed away. Why? The doctor's personality—if Emma was ordered to watch me, I wouldn't wake up intact!
I don't think I'm perfect, but I trust the doctor's obsession. He's utterly mad about research. Emma's thing? Probably overlapping paths by chance. Even with low cognition, she handles basics herself. If the doctor micromanaged every trifle, his mouth wouldn't rest a day.
Mood lifted, I washed up in the bathroom. Kid body has no waste buildup—no oiliness—but refreshing anyway. As I finished washing and toweled my face, something was off in the mirror.
Blood vessels?
Not just red eyes. The sclera stood out like demon possession, thick and thin veins spiderwebbing around. What is this? No overnight conjunctivitis, and this sure isn't that. Eating random stuff causes this···?
Trouble if it persists. How do I use the Mimic's power? I ate it to hide stuff like this! If this monstrosity pops up instead, what's the point? Go away! Retreat, demon! You vile thing!
I poked the grotesque bulging veins with my finger. Plump sensation. As I pulled away, felt thick veins rising again. Wow, amazing! Blood-powered, huh!
Wrestling veins a while, change happened. Shockingly, skin subsided as I willed. In seconds, skin calmed. Red irises, snow-white sclera, milky skin. All normal.
This··· the power of the Mimic···. Excellent, far exceeding expectations!
Seems ingesting virus causes backlash—like vomiting blood before. But for normals, it'd kill or turn cadaver high odds. This backlash? Mild whining maybe.
Anyway. Now I could perfectly deceive the doctor. Look forward, Doc—I'll upend your research.
Days later, isolated room. Glass-separated outside: grim-faced doctor. Full prep for dangerous viruses now.
"Extend your arm."
Doctor's voice via speaker. I obeyed mechanically, no deviation! Needle shot from machine into me instantly. Prepped dark-red liquid injected bit by bit.
But doctor's grave face unchanged.
"No reaction···."
Doctor observed unblinking. No visible symptoms unlike before.
"By calculations, should··· accept all···."
New needle extracted blood. Machine spat numbers; doctor noted them:
0, 0, 0, 0, and 100. Likely strengthening, radiation, mutation, special, immunity responses.
Yes. Doctor jabbed four activators right back; I perfectly blocked them!
Briefly: P.V. Virus types. Strengthening maxes host physical limits. Radiation odd—decomposes host microbially or turns body virus factory. Mutation twists host structure freely. Special: irregulars. Undefined, often fire-breathing, lightning-shooting magic-like.
Activators unlock these traits. Get it? Doctor aimed ultimate creature; got ultimate antibody! Outwardly, anyway. This Mimic's power—deception extreme. Fools visuals and machine readings. Users went mad. Especially me.
Now mine. How thrilling···. My imagined smirk ascended; doctor's face teetered collapse.
Tsk tsk, lighten up. Pandemic apocalypse, endless-mutating P.V. immune lifeform created. Great feat—why so glum?
"No···!"
-Crash.
"This isn't it···!"
Aw, ampoules shattered. Waste.
"What··· what went wrong? Timing? No, no—antibodies in days? Remodeled system to devour all viruses···."
Ah, veins from injections? No wonder still queasy-mad. Slight lapse: blood-vomit, ear-bleed, face-veins.
"Again. P.V. devour each other endlessly. If possible··· underdosed."
Ooh, thought pacing; today I become ultimate. Doctor crammed ampoules wildly.
Hehehe, post-jabs, arm gone. One, two, three, four. More tossed in, face darkening. Then five.
Finally, expected reaction. Veins faintly at injection. Wide-eyed, drew blood, observed.
Darkened again, noted:
15, 2, 7, 1, 98.
Averaged: 15% strengthening, 2% radiation, 7% mutation, 1% special. 98%? 98% immunity success. Thus those percentages vanish soon. Farewell, brothers. May we meet again···.
-Thud! Desk shook.
"Today's dosing done. Disinfect, rest."
Doctor left grimacing. Phew, relief. Nauseous beyond movement lately. No focus on me now—rest bit. Veins thickening all over? Disaster. Sneaked glance, leaned wall gingerly.
Resting, curiosity hit. 98% immunity post-jabs—what real values? Slight peek. Surface normal, internals manifest. Slid arm to protruding needle. Blood sucked.
Next:
50, 10, 30, 5, 0.
Whoa, carrier instantly. No—no immunity means confirmed infection? Mid-game barely hit 50%; now this? Gap huge. No symptoms but nausea—virus assimilation takes time. Specifically, symbiotic P.V. cells devouring others into own power.
Regrettable. Buff Nera far off. Moody me. Awakening to reality: escape-focused. Now embracing virus willingly.
Not mindless. Revenge talk aside, surviving apocalypse easy? Body blessed virus-free, but cadavers—P.V. hosts. Low IQ, but virus amps mutation, aggression extreme. World unsafe unless strong.
If protagonist here's lame, Central Sector falls instant. Saving world? Meh. Revenge? Licht lump bothers me. New humanity? Mad cultist, not researcher.
Summary: Get strong here, live comfy.