Conversation like this felt like merchants haggling.
Especially when it came to signing contracts, both sides always had their little schemes, trying to play word games and slip in loopholes.
Or rather, it was like politicians negotiating around some matter.
Kain did not like that.
For something that could be settled in a few simple sentences, he stated things plainly and directly.
First, Saeko was his representative, and there would be no compromises on security.
Second, he wanted the fastest possible turnaround: within forty-eight hours, he was to receive a new batch of Earth Elixir.
"I understand. Please give me one hour to prepare."
The reason he needed an hour was that Souichiro had to rearrange the Takagi family's current manpower, reassign tasks, and focus their main effort on collecting pharmaceuticals.
He also had several targets in mind—"200" of them—aside from large general hospitals, there were also pharmaceutical plants.
And this time, they would not be relying only on helicopters. A helicopter simply could not transport much, and it was not as if he had the authority to mobilize a large heavy-lift transport chopper.
This operation would primarily be a convoy by vehicle, departing in groups and hitting multiple locations simultaneously.
Of course, he also needed to explain the situation to his subordinates. Otherwise, with such an abnormal-looking operation, some people might refuse to cooperate.
It was not mainly because they feared taking risks, getting into trouble, and becoming one of the living dead.
Rather, in the current situation—once people realized the world had already collapsed and there might be no future—some of them became pessimistic, believing that what remained was nothing more than a drawn-out death.
If they were going to die anyway, then they wanted to die with their families.
They wanted, in the little time they had left, to stay with their loved ones as much as possible.
And some people's families had not yet been brought here. They were desperate to go out and find them.
So, there had to be a reason—something that would make the subordinates follow.
And now, there was indeed a compelling reason, a reason strong enough to rouse them: Earth Elixir.
They had two doses left, and he handed them over—one for himself, and one for his wife.
"What are they trying to do again?"
"Probably some kind of political performance."
The murmurs did not come from the Takagi household. They came from the citizens they had taken in.
Hearing those comments, Saya's brows knitted tighter and tighter.
Some people still seemed not to understand the true, fundamental upheaval that had occurred in society—no, in the world itself. They did not understand that there was no going back.
They treated it like an earthquake: take temporary shelter, and then everyone could go back home once it passed, returning to the old days.
So were these people truly stupid, or were they simply avoiding reality?
"…Did you see clearly? He is no longer human, and yet he is still 'alive.'"
Dad drove his sword through the heart of a living dead, and that thing was still "alive."
As Dad said this, he closed his eyes and took a shallow breath.
The next instant, Dad opened his eyes—
"Farewell, my friend!"
In life, that living dead had indeed been one of Dad's friends—someone Saya would have called "uncle," and a person she had felt was fairly decent.
As those words fell, Dad's sword had already flashed down with ruthless sharpness, severing the head cleanly, finally leaving it utterly incapable of moving.
And that scene made the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.
"But it's not time to despair yet…"
The one who said that was not Dad, but Mom.
In truth, the two of them were playing their roles—one the hardliner, one the soft touch.
When Mom stepped forward, her tone was gentler and warmer, unlike Dad's ferocity.
"Just today, the national authorities have already achieved a certain degree of progress in developing a medicine against the living-dead virus."
As she spoke, Mom produced a blood-sample vial—the kind used for drawing blood.
And that instantly changed the crowd's mood. People grew excited.
"A vaccine?"
"They developed it that fast?"
"It feels like there's some conspiracy. Could it be staged?"
"Madam Takagi, are you saying that as long as someone takes this vaccine, they won't become one of the living dead?"
"Yes. But for now, we only have two doses."
Those words made the crowd freeze for a beat—then the uproar threatened to explode, and they had to be restrained.
The reason was simple: people believed the doses would only go to the powerful, that the lower classes would be ignored. That sense of unfairness would quickly trigger chaos.
"Just talking doesn't prove it works. Wouldn't it be best to have someone get bitten once, to test it?"
Curses flew immediately—shouting about using common people as test subjects, about inhumanity, and worse.
"I'll say this—do you people really want to get yourselves killed? Do you truly think you have the ability to lead this chaos? …"
After that speech, one by one, they fell silent.
Mom's meaning was simple: right now, Dad was the keystone. Without the couple's leadership, this place would absolutely collapse.
It sounded arrogant, didn't it?
But Mom had the gift of rhetoric. She laid everything out in detail—what needed to be handled, what needed attention, how the place would be run.
"And now, as the benefactors who saved your lives, it's time for you to repay us. All we need is one person to step forward—for everyone, for the world—to contribute a single share of strength. No one?"
This was a test of human nature and human hearts—and also a way to sort people, and cut away what needed to be cut away.
And yet, everyone remained silent.
No—someone did stand up, but they were from the Takagi side.
As for the citizens, they stayed silent as ever.
In the end, on the citizens' side, only three people stepped forward.
Those who had shouted the loudest all shrank to the back, trying to hide themselves in the darkness of a world already swallowed by night, where the lighting was too poor to expose them. They feared being pointed out, named, dragged forward.
So they only needed one person to test it. Would they draw lots?
No.
In truth, they never intended to use those people for the test.
They watched as Mom suddenly walked to a cage. Inside, there was still a living dead locked up.
Mom suddenly extended her arm inside.
It was so abrupt.
Her beautiful limb was instantly torn away in a savage bite, a chunk of flesh ripped free.
And the citizens who witnessed it became even quieter.
(End of Chapter)
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