Finding Northland (1)
It’s been a few days since the new test subjects joined. December. Time flows on its own, regardless of whether anyone bothers to keep count. It’s a cold winter. It’s reached the point where just going outside is a bit of a hassle. But I like winter. At least there aren’t any damn bugs. Even here in Korea, things like grasshoppers grew to the size of a human palm. So, I can’t even imagine how big they’ve gotten in other places—places without such harsh winters. Dammit. I bet zombies aren’t even the real problem there, are they? Maybe the bugs are eating the zombies, too? That’s entirely possible, isn’t it?
Come to think of it, zombies are just a small fraction of the problem. Perhaps this is the mildest punishment nature has dealt us. Maybe it’s just the first few raindrops before the storm. But even just that was enough to kill a staggering number of humans. So, I can’t even fathom what’s coming next. Will we really be able to survive? That’s why I have to keep checking the changes in my surroundings. Thinking about it that way, I’m grateful for winter. It acts as a sort of suppressor.
My daily routine is simple. Miracle morning, perimeter check, drone reconnaissance, Project Necromancer experiments, spore concentration reduction experiments, sex, exercise, and sleep. Now that it’s winter, the sunlight and hydroelectric power generation have weakened quite a bit. So, I’ve switched the main base to power-saving mode. It’s not like it’s insufficient, though. I accounted for all of this. It’s not like I’ve only spent a day or two here.
I gradually expanded the drone’s search radius. The exploration of the Dongtan and Osan areas is almost finished. At the very least, I haven’t seen any more living people. For starters, since the cities are crawling with zombies, there shouldn’t be anyone left in the downtown areas. It’s unlikely there are people hiding, tricking the zombies, right? That’s a bit of a stretch.
But there is something a bit strange about it. The populations of Dongtan and Osan weren’t small. If that were the case, there should be a corresponding number of zombies or corpses. But it seems a bit low. Did they die in places I can’t see? If they mutated in their homes and attacked their families, and everyone turned into zombies, did those zombies just get trapped inside and die? Well, that could be it. Anyway, there aren’t that many zombies visible on the streets. Did the ones who died early just get eaten and disappear, consumed by zombies or animals? Did they all rot and scatter during the hot summer? That’s probably it. If I think of it that way, it’s not strange.
Regardless, the very fact that there are zombies left is proof that there are no people, so I search as thoroughly as possible with the drones. Because of the drone’s range, I have to go out myself to search. It doesn’t matter anyway, since I have the lymph nodes. It’s just a hassle. The gas mask is a bit annoying, but since it’s winter, it’s much more bearable, so that’s not really a problem either.
I need the experiment to reduce spore concentration to succeed quickly. If that happens, zombies won’t be a problem anymore. If I could completely clear away one of these nuisances, there’d be nothing better. So, I need to experiment on that quickly, too.
I finish the drone reconnaissance. Now, I move on to the experiments for Project Necromancer. Today’s experiment is to throw water balloons filled with water injected with carbon dioxide into a detergent containing ammonia. Well, this won’t completely fool the zombies. That’s too greedy. All I need is to lure the zombies in the direction I want. So I don’t have to play hide-and-seek with them while controlling the lymph nodes one by one.
Two zombies standing blankly. I carefully gauge the range of those zombies and hook a water balloon onto the sling. The sling practice is actually helping. I had wondered if I’d just wasted my time since I didn’t have anywhere to use it. I swing the sling and let go of one side. The water balloon flies off with a whoosh. And then—splat!—the balloon bursts, and the liquid inside, along with the coins I added for sound, clatters. Clink! At that, both zombies look toward the sound simultaneously. Yes. Go. That’s it. But that was all. They reacted to the sound, but since they didn’t recognize it as a human, they didn’t move any further.
Tsk. Did I try to take a shortcut? I guess I thought of zombies as too stupid, too easily. It’s almost embarrassing how much I prepared for this "experiment." I threw a few more water balloons in the same spot. I wondered if it would be different if there were more, but as expected, the zombies showed no reaction. Do I really need a living creature? Is ammonia and carbon dioxide just not enough? Anyway, the experiment… no, the thing I couldn’t even call an experiment, ended like that. So, I head back to the main base. My cozy home. A place safer than anywhere else. After returning and disinfecting myself thoroughly, I try the spore concentration reduction experiment.
The experiment is simple. I just feed the two men whatever I can. If feeding them something reduces their spore concentration, there’s nothing better than that. I have quite a variety of drugs, anyway. What I’m feeding them today is an expectorant. An expectorant. A drug that removes phlegm. I decided on this because I thought maybe, just maybe, it could reduce the spores accumulated in their bodies.
The two men ate the medicine I gave them. They had no choice. They didn’t have any options. But honestly, these two are living a decent life. Even if the portions are a bit small, they get three meals a day and there are no external threats. They might feel like they’re being bred, but if they can just endure that, there’s no better life than this.
"Hey. Do you guys need anything? You must be bored, should I throw in some books or something?"
At that, the two men glare at me viciously. Funny bastards. So they still have their pride left, huh? I want to tame them. At first, I even thought about putting the room salon worker in here. To use as they pleased. But that’s a bit of a waste. Above all, I have absolutely no intention of sharing 'what’s mine' with guys like that. It would be nice to catch two women, though. Then I could just attach them to those guys. Like breeding pigs.
Anyway, I gave them the expectorant, so I’ll have to check how much the concentration has dropped tomorrow. Fortunately, I can now measure the concentration quite accurately. In the past, I had to guess the spore concentration based on the kit’s reaction, but not anymore. I can draw blood, analyze it, and extract a rough figure. It’s not perfectly accurate, but it’s definitely more reliable than the kit. At least it’s enough to check by percentage.
I’m at about 52 percent. Since it’s similar to when I checked with the kit, I’d say it was worth the effort of wearing the gas mask diligently. Those guys are both at about 95 percent. The women are at a similar level. As expected, they’re in a state where it wouldn’t be strange if they turned at any moment. So, something needs to show results quickly.
Having finished the spore concentration experiment, I head to the room next door. As I open the door and walk in, three women look at me at once. The composed room salon worker, the fiercely glaring younger sister, and the coworker looking at me with anxious eyes. I’m not really feeling the room salon worker. She’s good, but the taste is fading now. I’ve done it a lot, too. Above all, there are two tastier women, aren’t there? So it’s only right to choose from that side.
"You, come here."
When I say that, the younger sister twists her face in disgust but gets up as if she has no choice. There is no refusal or resistance. Because she knows exactly what happens if she does. Especially since I hit her hard in the stomach a few days ago; since then, when I say this, she might dawdle, but she moves right away. So, why can’t you just behave? Why do you do things that get you hit?
"Get on your knees."
The younger sister, who was about to lie down reluctantly, closes her eyes, lets out a long sigh, and gets on the bed. "Lift your hips higher."
Just having sex doesn’t mean much. I have to make them submissive, to the point where they do everything I tell them. So that it becomes ingrained in their bodies. So that even if they feel resistance, their bodies move on their own when I speak. The younger sister is on her hands and knees, hips raised. I touch her p