The next day.
Wu Fan was awakened by a commotion.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for two seconds before remembering where he was—the isolation room on the second floor of the CDC.
The banging on the rolling shutter outside continued, but it was lighter than yesterday.
Did those things get tired too? Or had they moved on to a different target?
It didn't matter.
The commotion was coming from the end of the hallway.
Wu Fan rolled out of bed and walked over to the observation window.
In the hallway, several researchers in white coats were hurrying past, notebooks and pens in hand, their faces wearing a strange expression—not fear, but excitement.
Wu Fan had seen that expression before.
It was the same look those veteran detectives at the police station had when they encountered a major case.
He frowned and looked toward the source of the commotion.
The last isolation room.
The middle-aged man with glasses.
Through the observation window, Wu Fan saw the scene inside—
The man was curled up on the bed, his whole body convulsing.
His face had turned a deep liver-purple, and black bloody foam overflowed from the corners of his mouth, soaking the pillow and sheets.
His mouth was open as if he wanted to scream, but he could only make a hoarse, wheezing sound.
Fever.
Violent vomiting of blood.
Then his eyes rolled back.
It wasn't the kind of rolling back from fainting, but rather the entire eyeball turning a grayish-white, like a dead fish.
Wu Fan's heart sank.
Early symptoms of infection.
He turned to look at the hallway—Dr. Jenner and several researchers were already standing at the door of that isolation room, peering in through the observation window.
But there was no fear, no panic; instead, they were whispering to each other, and someone was rapidly recording notes in a notebook.
"Body temperature is rising faster than expected."
"Has the vomit been tested?"
"Not yet, but judging by the color, it should be internal organ hemorrhaging."
"What about the rate of central nervous system damage?"
"Too fast, ocular clouding appeared in less than ten minutes."
Wu Fan pushed the door open and walked out.
The researchers in the hallway glanced at him, but no one stopped him.
Everyone's attention was on that isolation room.
He walked up to Dr. Jenner's side and looked through the observation window.
The man was no longer moving.
He lay on the bed, eyes open, his grayish-white eyeballs staring straight at the ceiling.
Black blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the floor.
Five seconds of silence passed.
Then he moved.
It wasn't the movement of a living person.
It was that eerie, puppet-like movement where the joints don't seem to bend properly.
The man sat up from the bed, his head turning slowly toward the observation window.
He saw the people outside, saw living beings, and then opened his mouth—
Hrrr—
The roar carried through the glass, low, raspy, and full of hunger.
"Aggressive behavior has begun."
A researcher whispered, "Time interval approximately eight minutes."
The thing crawled off the bed and stumbled toward the door, slamming into the iron door with a thud.
Its face pressed against the glass of the observation window, its mouth opening and closing as its teeth clicked against the glass.
It was exactly like those things outside.
Exactly like those things on the streets of Atlanta.
But Wu Fan noticed that the researchers in the isolation area didn't back away.
Instead, they took two steps forward.
"Preserve the sample."
Dr. Jenner said, "Designation ATL-001, record all observational data."
A young researcher nodded and ran toward the stairs.
Several Old Professors stood behind, silently watching the Walker banging on the door.
Their expressions were different from the younger ones—there was no excitement, only a heavy sorrow.
One of the white-haired elders sighed and said softly, "Project Wildfire... the research direction was wrong after all."
Another Old Professor wearing gold-rimmed glasses nodded. "We are the ones who caused this disaster."
"We must develop a vaccine."
The third elder spoke, his voice raspy but firm. "Although we don't know who leaked the virus, we must take responsibility and save humanity."
They looked at each other and nodded.
Wu Fan stood to the side, taking in every word of the conversation.
Project Wildfire.
Caused the disaster.
Things done wrong.
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind.
In The Walking Dead series, the origin of the virus was never clearly explained.
The movies hinted at genetic weapons, while the show only said 'everyone carries the pathogen and will turn after death'.
But it never said where the virus came from.
Did he know now?
At least, these Old Professors knew.
Wu Fan opened his mouth, wanting to ask something.
But the Walker banging on the door was too loud, and now wasn't the time.
He turned and walked back to his own isolation room.
The third day.
The sound of the rolling shutter being hit was almost inaudible.
It wasn't that the Walkers had left, but that they had grown accustomed to this place; they were no longer frantically banging, but simply wandering outside.
Through the observation window, Wu Fan could see gray shadows drifting about like midnight ghosts.
Footsteps echoed in the second-floor hallway.
Wu Fan pushed the door open and walked out.
Dr. Jenner stood at the end of the hallway, holding a folder.
Several researchers followed behind him, their expressions exhausted.
"Everyone, come out,"
Dr. Jenner said.
He opened the door to the first isolation room.
The bald, burly man walked out, his gaze complicated as he saw Wu Fan.
He didn't speak, only nodded and headed toward the stairs.
From the second room, the middle-aged woman walked out, her eyes red and swollen, but she was alive.
The third room, the fourth, the fifth...
One by one, they were opened.
One by one, people walked out.
Finally, seven people stood in the hallway.
Eleven went in, seven came out.
Wu Fan counted them, his gaze landing on the fourth room—Amy's room.
The door was closed.
Dr. Jenner stood before that door, unmoving.
"What about her?"
Wu Fan asked.
Dr. Jenner was silent for two seconds, then stepped aside.
Wu Fan walked over and looked through the observation window.
A face was pressed against the glass.
Blonde hair, blue eyes—but those eyes were now grayish-white.
That face that had once smiled at him was now twisted into a hideous snarl.
A blood-red mouth hung open, black bits of meat stuck to the teeth, as she slammed against the glass.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Wu Fan stared at that face, stunned for a few seconds.
Damn it.
The girl he had randomly pulled into the car, the girl who had warned him to run on the street, the girl whose eyes used to crinkle into crescents when she laughed—
She was infected.
When was she bitten? On the way while escaping? Or even earlier?
It didn't matter anymore.
She was dead.
Dr. Jenner walked up to his side and said softly, "I'm very sorry."
Wu Fan didn't say anything.
He turned to look at the seven survivors.
The bald man stood at the front, meeting Wu Fan's gaze, and suddenly spoke: "Thank you."
"For what?"
"If it wasn't for you, we might have hidden things from those selfish bastards last night, and when the change happened, we would've been the first meal."
The bald man pointed at Amy's room: "She turned in the middle of the night. If it weren't for the isolation, she would have come out of the room and bitten us all to death while we were sleeping."
The others nodded in succession.
"We were wrong."
The middle-aged woman said while wiping away tears, "We shouldn't have yelled at you that day."
Wu Fan was silent for a few seconds.
"Remember this lesson."
He said, "From now on, anyone coming in from outside must be isolated for three days. If it's someone you're familiar with, just have them strip for a full-body inspection once."
The seven people nodded together.
Dr. Jenner walked up from behind, hands in his lab coat pockets, a strange smile on his face. "I'm glad you weren't infected."
Wu Fan rolled his eyes at him. "Edwin, that joke isn't funny at all."
A middle-aged woman also wearing a white coat walked over and took Dr. Jenner's arm. "Hey, he's just trying to lighten the mood for you."
She was around thirty, with brown hair tied back and a gentle smile.
"This is my wife, Candice Jenner."
Dr. Jenner introduced her.
"Hello."
Wu Fan nodded. "My name is Wu Fan. I used to be a police officer with the Atlanta Police Department, or perhaps now—"
He pulled the ID card from his pocket.
"—I am an executive of the Umbrella Corporation."
"Umbrella?"
Candice was stunned for a moment.
"Hey, don't listen to his nonsense!"
Dr. Jenner laughed and shrugged. "There's no such thing as the Umbrella Corporation. This guy made it all up; he wants to take over our CDC!"
Candice laughed too, but there was a hint of curiosity in her smile.
Wu Fan looked at them, knowing he couldn't explain it away.
They had worked here for ten years and knew every wall, every door, and every hallway like the back of their hands.
If you suddenly told them there was a hidden secret room in this building, belonging to a company they had never heard of—who would believe it?
Unless.
"Follow me."
Wu Fan said.
Dr. Jenner raised an eyebrow. "Where to?"
"The basement."
Dr. Jenner and Candice exchanged a look.
The Old Professors also gathered around.
"There's nothing in the basement but the generator room, the electrical room, and that thing..."
Dr. Jenner said, "We've worked here for ten years—"
"Then let's confirm it one more time."
Wu Fan turned and headed toward the stairs.
A minute later, a group of people stood on the third underground floor.
Concrete walls, exposed pipes, dim lighting. It was no different from the floors above.
Just as Dr. Jenner was about to make a quip, Wu Fan walked up to a wall.
He reached out.
There was only a card-swipe and facial recognition terminal on the wall.
Wu Fan took out the Umbrella Corporation ID and swiped it. *Beep.*
Then, under everyone's dumbfounded gaze, the wall split open.
It didn't actually split, but rather—slid open.
A metal door appeared out of thin air, opening outward from the wall.
The steel door panel was at least ten centimeters thick, with a striking logo in the center.
A red and white umbrella.
Umbrella.
Dr. Jenner's mouth fell open.
Candice clutched her chest and took a step back.
The Old Professors stared wide-eyed, looking at each other, unable to say a single word.
"This... this is impossible..."
Dr. Jenner murmured, "I've worked here for ten years..."
Wu Fan stood by the door, watching their reactions.
"Welcome to the Umbrella Corporation."
He said, "Atlanta Branch."
Inside the door, a deep corridor stretched into the darkness, lights flickering on one by one.
At the end of the corridor, another door could be seen faintly.
That door also bore the umbrella.
The red and white umbrella.
Quietly waiting for the next person to open it.