I Have a Modern Weapon Gacha System in the Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 77: Looking for Virologist

"Okay, find a virologist. I don’t care what nationality they have, they must be the best of the best."

"Yes sir," the specialist typed in, fingers moving fast across the keyboard as the connection stabilized.

The browser loaded slowly at first.

Seconds later, results started appearing.

Databases.

Archived profiles.

University directories.

Research publications.

"Filtering for virology... infectious disease specialists... recent publications within the last five years," the specialist said, narrowing it down.

Names began to populate the screen.

Dozens at first.

Then hundreds.

"Too many," one of the technicians muttered.

"Refine it," Adrian said. "Top-tier only."

"Copy."

More filters.

The list shrank.

Twenty.

Ten.

Five.

The specialist paused.

"...Sir, I’ve got one."

Adrian stepped closer.

"Pull it up."

The screen shifted.

A profile appeared.

The specialist leaned back slightly, reading it as it loaded.

"Dr. Han Seo-yeon," he said.

Adrian’s eyes fixed on the screen.

[Name: Dr. Han Seo-yeon

Age: 26

Nationality: Korean

Residence: Seoul

Occupation:

Virologist

Infectious Disease Specialist

Senior Researcher (Former KDCA Consultant)

Education:

PhD in Virology – Seoul National University

MSc in Molecular Biology – KAIST

Notable Achievements:

Youngest published researcher in adaptive viral mutation studies

Contributor to rapid diagnostic system development

Recognized internationally for breakthrough virology research]

A photo appeared beside the text.

Adrian studied it without speaking.

She looked young.

Too young at first glance.

But there was something else.

Her hair was long, silver, tied neatly behind her with a ribbon, though a few strands fell naturally around her face. She wore thin-framed glasses that sat perfectly on her nose. She was wearing a lab coat, making her look more professional.

"Well, she looked like a model," the specialist commented. "But her files don’t lie sir. I think she’s the best there is. The problem is that she is in Korea."

"Well we can find her, we know where he works right? It’s stated there."

The specialist shook his head slightly.

"...That’s the problem, sir."

He tapped the screen, pulling up more details beneath her profile.

"The institution is listed," he said. "But this is pre-outbreak data. Last confirmed update was weeks ago."

Adrian’s eyes didn’t leave the monitor.

"Pull it up anyway."

"Yes, sir."

Another window opened.

A map appeared.

Seoul.

Layered with markers—research centers, hospitals, government facilities.

"There," the specialist pointed. "Primary affiliation—Seoul National University Hospital. Secondary—KDCA-linked research facility."

Adrian studied it.

"Status?"

The specialist hesitated.

"...Unknown."

He typed again, trying to pull live data.

"Network traffic in that region is... unstable," he added. "Some nodes are still responding, but most are either offline or heavily delayed. No reliable civilian updates."

"Well since she is a virologist, she must be working in the lab, studying the virus. Our best chance of finding her is in that location, the Seoul National University Hospital."

"But sir, it is a hospital. Zombies could have compromised the location in the first days of the outbreak. And it is in Seoul, one of the densest cities in the world."

"Still, it’s either we are fighting blind here or we are going to get her and increase our chances of winning in this war," Adrian said. "Let’s hope that she is still alive and if not, well, we better look for other alternatives. Can you search another candidates?"

"Running secondary query," he said. "Same filters. Expanding region—East Asia."

The screen refreshed.

More names appeared.

Fewer this time.

More refined.

"Cross-referencing publications with citation index... filtering for mutation studies, rapid response research, and outbreak field involvement," he added.

The list dropped again.

Five.

Three.

Then—

"...Sir," the specialist said. "Another one."

Adrian shifted slightly.

"Pull it up."

The screen changed.

A new profile filled the display.

[Name: Dr. Akiyama Rina (秋山 理奈)

Age: 29

Nationality: Japanese

Residence: Tokyo

Occupation:

Virologist

Pathogen Evolution Specialist

Lead Researcher – National Institute of Infectious Diseases (NIID), Japan

Education:

PhD in Virology – University of Tokyo

MSc in Bioinformatics – Kyoto University

Notable Achievements:

Published breakthrough research on rapid viral replication pathways

Developed predictive models for viral mutation under high-density transmission environments

Advised Japanese health authorities during early outbreak containment efforts]

"Damn why are all virologists so damn hot," Adrian muttered under his breath. "Now we have two candidates. One in Korea, one in Seoul. If only the Philippines had the same educational infrastructure as those in Japan and Korea, we won’t have to trouble ourselves looking for someone abroad. Okay, I want you to lock those two in."

"Yes sir," the specialist saved the file of the two candidates.

"And since we are up and running, I want to know the state of the world. It’s been weeks since the outbreak started. Let’s see if they are still a functioning government."

"Pulling global feeds," he said. "Government sites, emergency broadcasts, military frequencies... anything still responding."

The screen split into multiple windows.

Different countries.

Different signals.

Most of them—

Dead.

"No response from Europe," one technician said quietly. "Major government sites are offline. Last updates were days ago."

"North America?" Adrian asked.

The specialist shook his head slightly.

"Fragmented," he said. "Some military channels are still active, but no centralized authority. Looks like regional command structures took over... then went silent one by one."

Another screen flickered.

"China?" someone asked.

"Blackout," the specialist replied. "No accessible data. Either they shut everything down... or they lost control."

Japan’s feed came up next.

Static.

Then.

A recorded broadcast.

"...Emergency measures... containment zones... avoid—"

"Last transmission was over a week ago," the specialist said.

"Korea?"

Another attempt.

A few signals.

Weak.

"...partial government continuity," he said. "But limited. Some agencies are still pushing data, but it’s inconsistent. Could be automated systems."

Adrian watched the screens.

One by one.

Falling silent.

"What about Southeast Asia?" he asked.

The specialist pulled it up.

"Same pattern," he said. "Initial response... then collapse. Some military enclaves might still exist, but no confirmed national command."

Silence settled in the room.

Because the picture was clear now.

"There’s no global coordination," one of the technicians said.

"No," the specialist replied. "Every country is on its own."

Adrian didn’t react outwardly.

But his gaze hardened slightly.

"Meaning no rescue," someone added under their breath.

"No support," another said.

"No fallback."

Adrian finally spoke.

"Then we stop expecting one," he said.