The Mad Scientist of the Factory (1)
“Our current situation is undeniably dire.”
Dr. Jang spoke while directing his gaze at an ambiguous point in the room.
Where the hell is this bastard looking?
The direction of the man’s eyes irritated Yang Jaeyeol, making him furrow his brow. Dr. Jang wasn’t looking at him, nor at Yoon Changwon. His head was angled somewhere between the two of them, yet his pupils were slightly raised upward, as if he were staring at something just beneath the ceiling.
“There are numerous problems, some of which appear utterly insurmountable. They represent immediate and tangible threats. Allow me to break them down numerically. Last year, the total number of cattle raised domestically reached 4.02 million head, encompassing Hanwoo, beef cattle, and dairy cows combined. The pig population stood at 13.67 million…”
Dr. Jang rattled off statistical figures without so much as glancing at his notes.
“Chickens numbered 183.48 million, including both broilers and layers. Ducks totaled 12 million. Adding goats, deer, and dogs brings the figure to 1.15 million. Rabbits and other livestock amounted to roughly 1.8 million head. If we convert these numbers into weight, cattle average around 850 kilograms per head, though factoring in younger animals, let’s assume 550 kilograms. That puts the combined weight of all cattle raised domestically until last summer at approximately 2.21 million tons. Pigs reach a slaughter weight of 110 kilograms after five months of rearing, so estimating an average of 60 kilograms yields a total of 820,000 tons…”
“Ah…”
Yang Jaeyeol turned to the seat beside him in bewilderment. The absurdity of listening to this meaningless barrage of numbers was overwhelming. Had something gone wrong here?
Yet Yoon Changwon, who had invited him, sat with his eyes gently closed, nodding serenely. For a moment Yang Jaeyeol wondered if the chairman had dozed off, but the rhythmic tapping of his fingertips against the sofa armrest confirmed he was awake. While Yang Jaeyeol struggled with what to do, Dr. Jang’s tedious explanation droned on.
“…Don’t be fooled by figures like 2.21 or 0.82 and think they’re insignificant. The unit is ten thousand tons. I needn’t explain how immense ten thousand tons truly is, but allow me one example. Consider bottled water—the kind we used to buy at convenience stores. At 500 milliliters each, reaching ten thousand tons would require stacking twenty million of those bottles. That’s enough for fifty million citizens to each take a sip and still have plenty left over. Heh, doesn’t that make it feel more tangible?”
Dr. Jang chuckled at his own analogy, but Yang Jaeyeol’s face only hardened further. The doctor paid no attention whatsoever.
“Now that we’ve reviewed the livestock statistics, let’s move on to the zombies.”
Having rambled endlessly about livestock, Dr. Jang shifted the topic to zombie corpses. The longer the explanation stretched, the more bewildered Yang Jaeyeol became.
…Is this son of a bitch messing with me?
When the livestock talk first began, he had assumed there was some point to it. Now it was clear the man was simply reciting memorized statistics. Had he wasted all this time preparing something any secretary could pull up in seconds? Anger boiled up inside him.
Yang Jaeyeol glanced sideways at Yoon Changwon, wondering if he should unleash a harsh rebuke. Yet…
“Hmm…”
Yoon Changwon remained seated calmly, showing no sign of displeasure. Strange. Yang Jaeyeol forced himself to swallow his temper with a quiet sigh. Until the chairman lost his own patience, it was basic bodyguard protocol not to intervene first.
“As I mentioned earlier, the crisis we face is immense. Zombie corpses may in fact pose an even greater threat than the living zombies themselves. The fact that no one has yet paid attention to this only amplifies the danger. Let’s look at the numbers.”
The infuriating statistics resumed.
“As of last September, three thousand zombies were being shot daily across the entire Nakdong River basin. Three thousand per day. That’s ninety thousand per month. At an average weight of sixty kilograms each, that amounts to 5,400 tons. In September alone, 5,400 tons of decaying organic matter were scattered throughout the Nakdong River basin. Should the massive zombie hordes currently controlling Seoul and Gyeonggi Province march south, these figures will skyrocket.”
The projector screen, which had displayed nothing but the words “CWA Project 1-1,” now showed footage of thousands of zombie corpses piled like mountains.
“No manual currently exists for handling zombie corpses. Some areas simply dig pits and bury them, while others transport them to incinerators. Most of the time, however, the bodies are left where they fall. In urban zones especially, arbitrary burial is impractical, so the corpses are frequently ignored altogether. This footage was recorded by our ABHT operatives last Tuesday in downtown Yeongcheon.”
As Dr. Jang spoke, the screen continued displaying graphic images of zombie corpses. Rats scurried busily among bodies sprawled carelessly across asphalt, while turquoise fluid oozed from rotting entrails spilling out of torsos.
Disgusting. I can’t watch this. …Ah, so this is why Chairman Yoon told me not to eat anything before coming.
Yang Jaeyeol fought back nausea. He had seen plenty of ugly sights in his time, but close-up footage of so many decaying corpses was difficult to endure. Had he eaten a full meal, he might have vomited.
“Corpse disposal must account for safety concerns, but the greatest burden is cost. First, let me outline the expenses involved in burial.”
Dr. Jang clicked to the next slide, showing excavators lifting zombie corpses into deep pits prepared in advance.
“Burial follows a process similar to the one used during the foot-and-mouth disease outbreak for livestock, yet the surrounding conditions differ significantly. Back then, burial sites were located near remote livestock farms far from cities, and leachate was extracted and treated at wastewater facilities. In the Nakdong River basin today, securing adequate space for such operations is far more difficult. Moreover, repelling the constant zombie hordes while safely processing wastewater demands substantial manpower and resources. Neglecting this process risks leachate flowing into the Nakdong River, which could trigger a large-scale epidemic…”
The explanation dragged on endlessly, and the footage of putrid liquid seeping from buried zombie corpses remained just as repulsive. Yang Jaeyeol could not understand why the doctor insisted on showing these visuals instead of simply describing them.
“…The next method is incineration. Unlike burial, which requires digging a new pit for each batch of corpses, incineration offers the advantage of constructing a single facility that can be used continuously. However, this method also carries considerable risks and costs. Setting aside the air pollution generated by incinerators, heat itself poses a major threat. Recent findings indicate that heat is one of the primary factors attracting zombies. Well, most of what we know about zombies has only been discovered recently…”
Dr. Jang, who had been muttering without pause, covered his mouth and let out another “Kik—!” of laughter.
Crack—!
Yang Jaeyeol, pushed to the limit of his patience, gripped the wooden armrest of the sofa tightly. He could not fathom which part of “most knowledge about zombies is recent” was supposed to be funny. What kind of twisted sense of humor did this bastard have that he laughed at something like that?
More importantly, why was this son of a bitch rambling on for so long? What was he even trying to say that required such a convoluted detour from livestock to burning zombie corpses?
“Incineration has another fatal drawback, and that is, of course, cost. In the incinerator we developed, when disposing of one hundred corpses at once, the amount of fuel required to completely reduce a single zombie corpse to ash—using kerosene as the standard—is approximately ten liters…”
“Hey, you little shit!”
Yang Jaeyeol could no longer hold back and roared at the top of his lungs.
“What the hell are you babbling about? I don’t need any of this explained! You think I don’t know corpses need coal or oil to burn, or that fire makes things hot? Stop dragging this out and get to the damn point!”
Normally, raising his voice like this would make anyone cower and apologize immediately, intimidated by his size and status. That had always been the pattern. But Dr. Jang’s reaction was different.
“Hoo…!”
The doctor first exhaled sharply through his nose like an angry bull, then his lips trembled.
“Well, Mr. Yang, while I understand what you’re saying… if you don’t fully grasp the situation through numbers, you won’t understand the core of this project, will you?”
Even as he replied in an agitated tone, the man’s gaze remained fixed on that same ambiguous point. His face had turned bright red, suggesting he was quite angry himself.
“What? This bastard…!”
Yang Jaeyeol shot to his feet. He had been patient, and now this arrogant PhD nobody dared talk back to the president? The man needed to be grabbed by the collar, shaken until bruises formed, and taught a lesson. But then…
“Hah…!”
Yoon Changwon, eyes half-open, turned to Yang Jaeyeol and spoke softly.
“…Sit down, President Yang. And don’t interrupt.”
“…Pardon? Ah… yes. My apologies, Chairman.”
Caught completely off guard, Yang Jaeyeol doubted his own ears yet obeyed, returning to his seat. Yoon Changwon gestured for Dr. Jang to continue.
“Dr. Jang, pay no mind and proceed.”
“Ah, well… the explanation was cut off midway…”
Dr. Jang blinked for a moment like someone experiencing mild panic, then resumed in a flustered voice.
“Hoo…! To summarize the current situation, corpses are everywhere. Allow me to present the numbers once more. Starting with livestock, last year the total number of cattle raised domestically reached 4.02 million head…”
This son of a bitch—is he really starting from the beginning again?
Yang Jaeyeol clenched his teeth. Just as he feared, Dr. Jang repeated the entire explanation verbatim, down to every single word and even the same jokes, complete with the same self-satisfied chuckles.
“…When you look at the numbers alone, the problem seems insurmountable. However…”
After reciting countless statistics and cost-related figures, Dr. Jang proudly puffed out his chest.
“…Fortunately, I can offer several solutions to this dilemma. First, are either of you familiar with insects?”
Dr. Jang asked, blinking his rustic eyes. Yoon Changwon opened his mouth.
“No, I’m not particularly—”
“The world of insects is filled with fascinating elements. Events that defy human common sense occur frequently.”
Once again, Dr. Jang shamelessly cut Yoon Changwon off before he could even finish and launched into his explanation.
“…Even the common ants we see around us possess tremendous abilities. An ant can lift a load twenty times its own body weight. You might think, ‘So what? Ants are tiny…’ but that would be a mistake. In human terms, that’s equivalent to a seventy-kilogram adult lifting 1.4 tons. Impressive, isn’t it? But there’s still far more to marvel at.”
Ants? What the hell is he planning to do with ants?
Before Yang Jaeyeol could ponder further, Dr. Jang continued in an awkward tone, like a door-to-door salesman pitching a pyramid scheme, moving on to another insect.
“What about speed? A species of tiger beetle found in Australia can run at up to nine kilometers per hour. Its wings beat rapidly, not to fly but to propel it across the ground at tremendous speed. You might say nine kilometers per hour isn’t much—I’ve run that fast on a treadmill myself—but don’t forget the insect’s small size. This creature can travel 171 times its own body length in a single second. Even Usain Bolt, the fastest human, can only manage six times his body length per second…”
Apparently this was another punchline. Dr. Jang let out a cynical chuckle before continuing.
“These figures suggest that if the insect were two meters tall, it could break the sound barrier. Remarkable, isn’t it? Now, let’s discuss consumption. Among insects, the champion in terms of eating capacity is…”
You bastard! This is all useless bullshit! Enough already! Please!
A scream erupted inside Yang Jaeyeol’s mind. It changed nothing. Dr. Jang continued rambling about “the mysterious world of insects” for some time, and Yang Jaeyeol felt an overwhelming urge to rip off his own ears.
He had never realized how torturous it was to sit through such pointless drivel without being able to tell the speaker to shut up. Yet one thing had become crystal clear.
Right, so he’s saying insects will process the corpses. That’s why he kept going on about total body weight and decay rates, isn’t it, you bastard?
Yang Jaeyeol thought irritably, wiping the corner of his mouth. Sure enough, moments later Dr. Jang changed the slide to a photograph of a dead rat covered in swarms of tiny insects and said,
“Insects have long been excellent and efficient corpse processors. Once a body begins to decay and releases skatole—the breakdown product of proteins—into the air, even trace amounts will immediately draw insects. Other decomposition products also attract them: acetic acid, butyric acid, phenol, p-cresol, dimethyl disulfide…”
Listing the chemical names one by one while folding his fingers, Dr. Jang made an awkward gesture and asked,
“At this point… aren’t you wondering why we’re even holding this meeting? After all, the insects will just eat everything, right?”
Poke—!
Yoon Changwon, who had been puffing on a cigarette, nudged Yang Jaeyeol’s elbow. It was a signal to play along with the mad scientist’s nonsense.
“Ah, yes. I see… So if we just leave the corpses alone, won’t the bugs eat them all anyway?”
Suppressing his irritation, Yang Jaeyeol delivered the line stiffly, like reciting a script.
“Laymen might think so foolishly, but it’s not that simple.”
Dr. Jang shook his head in a thoroughly annoying manner. It was enough to drive anyone insane.
I already know it’s not simple, you bastard! I’m only pretending to ask because you told me to!
Yang Jaeyeol cursed inwardly. But no matter how fiercely he glared, Dr. Jang calmly continued his knowledge-spouting tirade.
“Even if we combined every insect on Earth, the total might reach a quintillion individuals, yet not all of them gather around corpses. Therefore, the decomposition process takes far too long. From carrion beetles that arrive when decay begins, to species that consume fat, those that break down collagen, and finally specimen beetles that feed on the excretions of other insects—by the time they’ve all played their roles and only bones remain, it typically takes over six months. And that’s only when vertebrates have already removed more than half the carcass. Imagine it. Six months from now… that’s early June next year. More than enough time for a tremendous volume of corpses to release all manner of deadly pathogens, and the weather will be warm and humid by then. This assumes, of course, that a sufficient number of insects are already present around the corpses.”
…It takes that long?
Yang Jaeyeol narrowed his eyes. This was territory he had not calculated for. The chatterbox’s tone and behavior were infuriating, but the six-month timeframe lodged itself firmly in his mind. If they failed to clear the countless corpses by the time spring next year passed… it would undoubtedly cause catastrophic problems.
“Unlimited growth is equally problematic. Imagine flies blanketing the sky—that should make it easy to understand. Most countries worldwide are likely facing similar issues, though population density varies. A large quantity of rotting corpses always brings trouble, and the difficulty increases dramatically when zombies remain active and collection becomes nearly impossible.”
After another lengthy discourse on the severity of the problem, Dr. Jang spoke with unmistakable pride filling his unattractive face.
“That is what inspired me to begin this research. Allow me to introduce it! The genetically modified new species of insect—the Yoon Geojeri.”