39 Small Laboratory

In the midst of the abandoned village, Victor couldn't help but sense a connection between the desolation and the origin of the zombies he had encountered. He sighed, realizing that this village was likely the source of the outbreak. The scene before him lacked any remarkable significance, and the dilapidated structures were a testament to the village's downfall. Although his initial objective had been to secure clothing, he now turned his attention to the reflection he caught of himself in a nearby puddle.

His laboratory gown, once pristine white, had taken on a gray hue and was smudged with dirt, rendering him the image of a vagabond. While his concern lay more in hygiene than appearance, he recognized the importance of making a positive impression as he ventured into social interactions. Clothes were a necessity, and he directed his thoughts inward, urging himself to prioritize the task at hand.

'Don't dwell on it; just find suitable clothes.'

Entering a dilapidated wooden house, Victor searched its nooks and crannies for garments that could serve his purpose. After gathering a few potential options, he took a moment to evaluate his appearance using a puddle's reflection. His mental commentary suggested he regarded his attire's practicality over aesthetics. However, as he sought to re-engage with society, a more favorable appearance was imperative.

'Stop pondering and focus on the task.'

After selecting garments that fit him reasonably well, Victor stepped back into the village's desolation. Frustration clouded his thoughts, as he couldn't help but contemplate his missed opportunities to salvage useful items from his prior encounters with people. Musing on his lack of foresight, he scolded himself for failing to seize valuable resources when they had been readily available.

With clothing secured, his attention shifted to locating a functional weapon. Despite his efforts, disappointment accompanied his search, as any sharp objects had likely been requisitioned by villagers attempting to defend themselves from the zombies. Recognizing the futility of his endeavor in this village, he decided to retrace his steps, hoping to avoid further confrontations with the undead.

However, a newly discovered path lined with grass caught his attention. Unlike the route the villagers had taken to Akaosanuri, this path was distinct and piqued his curiosity. Deciding to explore this avenue, he moved forward, trusting his instincts that it could lead him to new insights or resources.

As he ventured along the path, Victor's companion, Kuting, returned in his larger form, displaying signs of excitement or urgency. Victor inquired about Kuting's actions, attributing them to a successful hunt. Yet, rather than exhibiting exuberance, Kuting emitted a deep roar, conveying a message beyond words.

"Ah, you've found something interesting, haven't you?" Victor mused, his curiosity piqued. Kuting's demeanor intrigued him, and he was keen to discover the reason behind the creature's fervor.

Following Kuting's lead, Victor was directed toward a different path that he hadn't noticed earlier. This route guided him toward yet another abandoned village, the ground littered with lifeless zombie remains. It was evident that Kuting had been involved in clearing this area, and Victor acknowledged his companion's efforts with a mixture of approval and amusement.

"Seems like you've been busy," Victor noted, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. Yet, rather than engaging in a playful manner, Kuting whined, as if wanting to communicate something more.

"All right, what's on your mind?" Victor questioned, his curiosity urging him to decipher Kuting's message.

In response, Kuting led Victor to a two-story house, capturing his attention with a sense of purpose. As he followed Kuting's guidance, Victor was guided into a small room that held a collection of herbs, chemical vials, and concoction materials. The sight sparked a faint intuition within Victor, offering a glimpse into the room's significance and the discoveries that awaited him there.

"This smells like… what I smelled from the zombies," Victor mused aloud as his keen senses led him to trace the familiar scent within the room. He continued his search, compelled by the recognition that this scent bore a striking resemblance to the odor he had encountered amidst his battles with the undead. His experiences in dispatching over fifty zombies had made him intimately acquainted with the specific fragrance of decomposition, and that knowledge now guided his investigation.

The scent lingered in the air, acting as a trail for Victor to follow. As he ventured further into the room, his suspicions were confirmed when he identified the source of the odor emanating from a corner of a cabinet. Extracting a vial from its hiding place, he realized that the smell was unmistakably akin to that of the zombies he had encountered. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle before him.

'This appears to be a laboratory,' he deduced, his thoughts moving swiftly as he connected the dots. 'These vials and pills must be connected to how the zombies came into existence. Could the initial victims have ingested these pills?'

Understanding dawned upon him, shedding light on the origins of the zombie outbreak. Yet, as he held these discoveries in his hands, he grappled with the question of their potential applications and implications.

'So now I know how it all began, but what can I do with this knowledge?'

A sigh escaped him as he contemplated the uses and consequences of the newfound information. Uncertainty clouded his thoughts, leaving him without a clear path forward. However, as he recalled the way the zombies had served as sources of experience points, a wry smile tugged at his lips.

Exiting the compact laboratory, Victor turned his attention to Kuting, his loyal companion. The creature's presence was a comfort, grounding him in the midst of his contemplations. Ruffling Kuting's fur gently, he decided that, for the time being, he would leave the vials and pills undisturbed. While he recognized their potential value, he understood that the circumstances surrounding them were complex and unpredictable.

Despite the uncertainty, he couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the outcome. If the vials were discovered and used to combat the outbreak, it wouldn't be his concern. His purpose lay elsewhere, and he had no intention of allowing these discoveries to impede his progress. After all, the zombie situation was just a backdrop to his greater objectives.

'Let things unfold as they will,' he concluded with a mental shrug. 'The fate of the zombies, whether they thrive or are eradicated, doesn't affect my journey.'

However, his train of thought was abruptly disrupted by the appearance of three armed men – mercenaries or adventurers, he surmised – who confronted him and Kuting. The interruption frustrated his train of thought and prompted him to reevaluate his plans.

Kuting's growl reverberated, conveying his protective stance, as Victor shifted his focus to the men before him. While he had intended to leave the village quietly, their presence demanded attention. Engaging his surroundings, he noted the weapons at their sides and the armor they wore, mentally assessing their capabilities.

The confrontation escalated as one of the men approached, halting Victor's departure. The encounter left Victor feeling somewhat exasperated, as he realized his initial intentions were thwarted. He sighed inwardly, acknowledging that he would need to alter his course of action.

However, a flicker of inner conflict arose as he contemplated his next move. Killing humans was something he had deliberately avoided for months, opting instead to direct his focus towards zombies and his personal objectives. The irony of this moment did not escape him – facing human adversaries just as he was beginning to confront the moral ambiguity of his actions.

As the situation escalated, Victor found himself on the brink of a decision. With the realization that he needed a weapon – and the swords these men carried were undoubtedly of use – he clenched his fist, steeling himself for the grim task ahead.

With grim determination, he chose to confront the men with his bare hands, delivering swift and brutal blows that resulted in their demise. The sight of bloodstained ground and his own hands did little to shake his resolve; instead, he focused on the practical outcome – he now possessed the swords he required.

Once again, a sigh escaped him, this time tinged with a hint of irony. 'Life has its twists and turns,' he thought as he regarded the swords at his feet. They were tools, means to an end, and he was determined to employ them to further his journey.