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"Master… I think I'm losing control of my mind."
Mafuyu Kirisu's voice was unusually serious.
She hadn't eaten a thing since morning. Of course she was hungry.
Worse, her head felt foggy, like her thoughts were slipping through her fingers. When Julian had been threatened earlier, she'd snapped without thinking and killed the guy on the spot.
Now she could feel it clearly—if she didn't drink something red, or at least consume something soon, she'd revert back to being a mindless zombie.
"I see…"
Julian thought back to the way she'd gone berserk earlier.
If he wanted her to stay in a normal state, he'd have to keep feeding her.
He sighed.
This whole "they turn back into zombies if you don't feed them" mechanic was absolutely brutal.
In the future… he'd better keep the number of zombie followers under control.
Two female zombies was barely manageable.
If that number ever climbed to eight or ten, he'd be done for.
"Hana, I want sausage and egg fried rice."
"Go make me a plate. The ingredients are in the storage."
"Okay, Master!"
"Cooking's my specialty!"
Hana lit up at the order, as if she'd just been entrusted with something important. She skipped off happily.
As for Julian…
He grabbed Mafuyu's hand and pulled her into the tent.
The gray in her pupils had already swallowed up half her eyes. If he didn't feed her now, something was definitely going to happen.
…
"Master, the food's ready."
"Are you going to eat first, or…"
Hana glanced down at herself meaningfully.
"Let's eat first," Julian said. "Fried rice isn't good once it gets cold."
He took the bowl and sat down right there to eat.
He had to admit—Hana could cook.
It was just a simple plate of fried rice, but it tasted amazing.
Looks like becoming a zombie hadn't erased her basic life skills.
With a little cook like her around, life in the apocalypse might actually be comfortable.
Julian polished off the whole plate in a few bites.
Hana knelt obediently beside him and took the dishes.
"Master, I'll go wash these."
She was just about to leave when Julian grabbed her wrist.
The dishes could wait.
…
When Julian finally stepped out of the tent, he stretched lazily.
Tonight, he should finally be able to sleep well…
Being a man wasn't easy.
Still, jokes aside, the fact that getting bitten by zombies made him stronger—that needed serious testing.
Today he'd been bitten by nearly ten zombies, and his strength had skyrocketed.
What if he went out and deliberately let thousands of zombies bite him?
Would he become absurdly powerful?
Or would he just get chewed down to skin and bones?
And what about the difference between being bitten by weak, ordinary zombies versus mutated ones? Would the effects vary?
All of that needed to be tested.
In the apocalypse, strength was the only thing that guaranteed survival.
"....."