Read Novel Full Chapter 386: Research
Chapter 386: Chapter 386: Research
She looked up at Silas, who had regained his composure and was watching her intently.
"Did you feel it too?" he asked quietly.
Ivy nodded.
"I feel like I’ve lost some memories from my past life," she admitted softly. "They’re there... but unclear."
Silas lowered his head and hugged her tightly.
"Whatever it is," he murmured, "we’ll uncover it together."
Ivy nodded against his chest.
Silas continued,
"For now, that force doesn’t seem hostile. Everything it’s guided us toward has helped, not harmed us."
She nodded again.
"But if it ever tries to hurt you," Silas added calmly, "I’ll deal with it."
Ivy stayed silent while Silas fell into thought.
He had sensed subtle manipulation before, yet he had never resisted it. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t meant to harm them.
Then Ivy suddenly spoke, "We found iron."
Silas smiled faintly. "That’s good."
He knew that this was Ivy’s attempt to change the topic and reduce the discomfort.
After a pause, he added,
"My father, my mother, my younger brother, and Talia are planning to come to the base."
Ivy blinked in surprise.
"Asher too?" she asked immediately.
Silas nodded lightly, his gaze softening.
"Because of the clues you gave me, I found Asher much faster in this life."
Hearing those words, Ivy simply smiled.
The memory surfaced quietly. When they had returned to their country, she had told Silas everything she remembered about Asher from her previous life.
Those fragmented details, vague faces, and half-remembered locations had been enough.
They had guided Silas straight to his younger brother and brought him safely into the base.
As Ivy drifted in those thoughts, Silas suddenly leaned closer, his breath brushing against her lips.
"It’s been a long time since we’ve had any... action."
Ivy’s cheeks instantly warmed. She tilted her head away slightly, flustered.
"You really act like a big bad wolf sometimes."
Silas laughed, low and amused.
"I am a big bad wolf," he teased. "And I want to devour a pink rabbit."
Ivy frowned immediately.
"Why pink?" she protested. "Why not a white rabbit?"
Silas chuckled. His fingers unconsciously reached out, gently twirling a strand of her pink hair.
"Because of this," he murmured. "Your pink hair, your pink eyes, and those cheeks that always look like they’re glowing."
Ivy laughed and lightly tapped his chest.
"You really know how to flirt every single time."
Silas laughed along with her.
They talked quietly for a while longer, enjoying the warmth and familiarity, until Silas finally had to leave.
There was still much to do, preparing for his resignation, arranging the safe transfer of his family from the military base, and ensuring nothing went wrong.
As he walked away, his expression hardened with determination.
Far away from them, inside the research laboratory, Jay stared at the results on the screen, his hands trembling slightly with excitement.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing. Even after the apocalypse, a base could maintain such living conditions.
When he had first arrived at SiIvy Base, he had been stunned.
’If my past base was hell,’ he thought, ’then this place is almost heaven.’
There were no leaking ceilings, no foul stench of rot. The base was clean. People were civilized.
Food was affordable. What moved him the most was how people genuinely helped one another.
Corruption was nearly nonexistent. There was even a research team, small and underfunded, but determined.
For Jay, that was more than enough.
He had worked in antidote development before the apocalypse.
Compared to the chaos outside, researching a zombie virus here felt almost manageable.
As he collaborated with the other researchers, he realized they were talented. With their help, many calculations that would have taken days were reduced to hours.
Finally, they created a forced-drop version of an antidote.
Jay’s fingers trembled as he spoke,
"Bring in a restrained zombie."
When the zombie was brought in and strapped to a makeshift bed, Jay and the researchers quickly donned protective suits.
The air smelled of disinfectant and metal, thick with tension. Jay stepped forward carefully and injected the antidote.
They waited.
Then something strange happened.
For a brief moment, the zombie stopped growling.
Its eyes cleared.
Confusion flickered across its face, painfully human. It looked at the people in protective suits, then at a figure standing person farther away in a white coat.
Slowly, awkwardly, it lifted a trembling hand.
A broken sound escaped its throat, something that almost resembled a plea.
The room held its breath.
Just as hope surged in their eyes.
The zombie roared.
Its face twisted violently, ferocity returning tenfold. It thrashed so hard that the bed rattled, nearly tearing free of its restraints.
Panic erupted.
"Call security!"
Guards stationed nearby rushed in immediately, tightening the straps and forcing the zombie back under control. Without hesitation, they dragged it away.
Silence fell over the lab.
Disappointment weighed heavily on everyone. They had been working on this for weeks.
Even before Jay arrived, the team had poured endless effort into their research. They had hoped to see at least a one percent physical change.
Instead, the antidote had only granted a fleeting moment of clarity, followed by increased aggression.
Many felt crushed.
’It failed,’ some thought bitterly.
But Jay didn’t share that conclusion.
From his perspective, even that single second of clarity mattered. It proved something vital.
"We’re on the right path," Jay said firmly.
One of the researchers, Monit, frowned.
"Should we change directions entirely?"
Jay shook his head.
"No. The direction is correct," he insisted. "But our focus is off. We’re affecting cognition and emotion, not the physical structure."
He paced slowly.
"That’s why there’s no visible change. If we improve this formula, we might extend that clarity to fifteen minutes."
The room stirred.
"Fifteen minutes is enough," Jay continued. "Enough time to run proper tests and determine whether true restoration is possible."
As the researchers listened, a fragile but undeniable hope reignited in their eyes.
"As long as we make an antidote that can give those fifteen minutes, we might know if our research direction is correct or not."