Two hours later…
"Phew!" Lisa finally exhaled deeply, completing the last stitch.
Miles leaned forward anxiously. "Is he going to make it?"
Lisa shook her head, her expression serious. "All I can say is we've done everything possible. He's lost an immense amount of blood, and several wounds have severely damaged his internal organs. What's more, he was bitten by zombies. The fact that he hasn't shown signs of infection yet is nothing short of a miracle. Whether he'll survive… that's still uncertain."
"Not even you can guarantee it?" Miles blurted instinctively.
Lisa's face instantly hardened, her hands on her hips, as she glared at him. "What do you mean, 'not even me'? If it weren't for me, I guarantee no one in all of Chicago could have saved him!"
"Alright, alright, you're amazing!" Miles conceded with a wry smile.
Though Lisa was usually gentle, sensible, and endearing, she was uncompromising when it came to matters of her expertise. In those moments, she was like a warrior defending her principles.
"There's just one thing I don't understand," Miles began but was quickly interrupted.
"You're wondering why, despite being bitten by zombies over two hours ago, he hasn't shown any signs of mutation?" Lisa guessed, arching an eyebrow.
"Exactly!"
Under normal circumstances, a bitten person would mutate within minutes. Yet here was Isaac, three hours post-attack, showing no changes whatsoever—not even minor symptoms.
Lisa pondered for a moment before offering an explanation. "It's likely due to his extraordinary physical constitution."
"How so?" Miles leaned in, his curiosity piqued.
Lisa glanced at the monitors as she spoke. "During the surgery, I noticed that Isaac's physical condition is exceptional. Despite being over sixty years old, his body shows no signs of aging. His organs and muscle tissues are remarkably robust. To put it simply, his physical fitness far exceeds that of most twenty-year-olds—even those who work out regularly."
"That's probably why he hasn't succumbed to infection. His cellular activity might be so dynamic that it not only resists the zombie toxin but actively neutralizes it. In fact…" Lisa hesitated, her expression turning thoughtful.
Miles caught the pause and immediately sensed an intriguing possibility. "You're saying…?"
Lisa nodded. "If his cells are capable of destroying or even assimilating the zombie toxins, he might not just survive—he could become something entirely different. A second-generation mutant, perhaps."
Miles frowned, confused. "Isn't that just another way of saying 'ability user'?"
Lisa shook her head. "It's not the same. You're a natural-born ability user. Whatever triggered your powers remains a mystery, and it's likely unrepeatable. Isaac, however, is undergoing an induced transformation caused by external factors. Even in the best-case scenario, his mutation wouldn't grant him the same level of abilities as yours. At most, he'd gain enhanced physical strength—like a superhuman brute. Do you understand?"
Miles nodded slowly, processing the information.
Lisa wiped the sweat from her brow and added, "For now, it's in fate's hands. If he survives, there's a strong chance he'll mutate—but not in the way a zombie would. Instead, his transformation would likely enhance his body's structure rather than compromise his mind."
The next afternoon…
After finishing his meal, Miles headed to the medical room to check on Isaac. Despite their differing philosophies, Miles held a certain admiration for the man. In a world ravaged by chaos, Isaac's unwavering humanity was both an anomaly and a beacon of integrity.
Lisa accompanied him, and when she checked the monitors, her eyes widened in astonishment. "My God, he's actually recovering! And look at this—his physical stats are improving at an extraordinary rate, at least twenty times faster than a normal person!"
"Plain English, please?" Miles said, though he understood most of what she was saying.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "Think of it this way—if a normal person breaks a bone, it might take months, even years, to fully heal. For him, it'll only take a matter of days. Look at his wounds! It's been less than 24 hours, and not only are they free from infection, but they've already started scabbing over. That's his incredible regenerative ability at work."
Finally grasping her point, Miles couldn't contain his excitement. "So you're saying Isaac might already be mutating? Not into a zombie but into… an ability user?"
"Based on current observations, yes," Lisa replied, her own excitement evident. "If this proves true, his case could mark a breakthrough in my research on zombie cells."
Three quiet days passed.
One morning, Miles was roused by the sound of alarms blaring from the medical room.
Lisa, who had been preparing breakfast, dropped everything and ran downstairs, her excitement palpable. "He's awake!" she exclaimed as she darted past Miles.
"Turn off the stove! You're going to burn the place down!" Miles shouted after her, grumbling as he went to turn off the burner himself. He followed her into the medical room.
Inside, they found Isaac lying weakly on the bed, but his eyes were open—proof of his survival.
"Miles… Where am I?" Isaac's voice was hoarse, his expression dazed. For a moment, it seemed as though he'd forgotten the apocalyptic world outside.
"You've been out cold for three days," Miles said with a grin. "Ryan brought you here, and Lisa saved your life."
"Thank… thank you, Doctor," Isaac murmured, bowing his head toward Lisa.
Lisa, busy with her instruments, replied matter-of-factly, "Don't thank me. Saving lives is my duty, but it was Miles who gave the order."
Her words were clear: she owed Isaac nothing. Gratitude, if any, belonged to Miles.
Isaac turned to Miles, his gaze sincere. "Thank you, Miles."
Miles simply nodded before leaving the room. He saw no need for unnecessary words; gratitude was better shown through actions than reiterated verbally.
Isaac's survival was a boon for Miles, strengthening his security force and adding a reliable ally to his ranks. A man of Isaac's integrity and capability would undoubtedly prove invaluable.
A few minutes later, Lisa joined Miles on the first floor. "His condition is excellent. At this rate, he'll make a full recovery in three to five days."
"Damn, that's insane," Miles muttered, still processing the rapid turnaround.
Three days ago, Isaac had been at death's door, his body ravaged and his blood nearly drained. Now, he was not only stable but on the verge of recovery. It was a testament to his extraordinary resilience—and perhaps, a glimpse of something even greater.