Chapter 9: The Seeker of Help

In the first week after the capture, the world’s first patient with Chelation Disease died from massive internal bleeding in a local hospital. Yet by then, Chelation Disease had already begun to spread rapidly across the globe.

Chelation Disease is highly infectious from its early stages. Approximately two hours after infection by the pathogenic spores, the patient’s bodily fluids become contagious. These spores enter the bloodstream through mucous membranes and accumulate near the brain’s capillaries. The most striking change during this process is a sharp drop in serotonin levels, which explains why the initial symptoms resemble depression.

As the chelation vesicular gametes within the spores mature, they form cysts. Inside these cysts, nuclei and cytoplasm repeatedly divide and proliferate, producing thousands of secondary spores. When the cysts rupture, the spores swarm out, physically breaching the blood-brain barrier and seizing control of brain activity.

The moment the blood-brain barrier is broken marks the patient’s complete loss of sanity and their total descent into a puppet of the Chelation pathogen. Even if the patient temporarily retains normal social interactions and self-care abilities, they are no longer truly human.

Chelation beings are born criminals, driven by a thirst for slaughter. Though such violence hardly aids the further spread of spores—in fact, it often exposes their infection prematurely—they persist with ruthless zeal.

Chiba was driving, taking Hestia for one last ride around the Severn Hills. She spoke slowly about the history of Chelation Disease. Under a towering ancient tree, she stopped the car, lit a cigarette by the window, and softly said, “But that’s not even the most terrifying part of Chelation Disease.”

Hestia looked at her, waiting silently for her to continue.

Chiba went on, “Before symptoms appear, patients don’t sneeze or have fevers. Even when exhausted inside, they can mask their condition with a positive façade. The only way to confirm infection is through cerebrospinal fluid testing.”

“In other words, before diagnosis, it’s nearly impossible for outsiders to tell if someone is infected by any clear signs... This greatly intensified the fear of Chelation Disease.”

“During its rapid spread, no one dared show weakness in front of others. If someone appeared listless, they were suspected as potential patients. In those days, that was the most terrifying thing.”

“Why...?” Hestia asked.

“Vigilante justice,” Chiba whispered. “Across the world, spontaneous groups called ‘Chelation Scavengers’ relentlessly hunted those they deemed infected. Many innocent people were killed by mistake. Besides depression sufferers, many introverted, reticent individuals were targeted.”

“Suspected cases suffered greatly; diagnosed patients endured even worse. Driven by extreme fear, many people twisted the truth, believing only inherently evil, filthy souls could be invaded by the Chelation pathogen. They couldn’t accept that they themselves might commit such horrors. It was easier to think patients were born murderous fiends, chosen by the demon... But this meant even those who recovered after treatment could never return to normal life.”

“That’s why most patients, even when feeling obvious changes in themselves, refused to seek medical help before symptoms appeared. I just remembered you grew up in a convent; you must have heard these stigmatizing reasons many times.”

Hestia recalled Sister Gerdin’s admonitions and remained silent.

“In any case, back then, many endured unimaginable torment,” Chiba exhaled smoke. “Here’s an interesting—well, maybe not so ‘interesting’—statistic: about 31% of patients, upon suspecting infection, carry a sharp weapon—scissors, knives, even axes. Do you know why?”

Hestia’s body trembled uncontrollably. “...Why?”

“Because they feared they were truly infected but dared not confirm it. So they prepared a weapon to take their own lives if necessary. Yet, these tools often became the first weapons they used after turning.”

The girl bit her lip tightly.

“In short, we paid an excruciating price to contain Chelation Disease. These past years, it has begun to run rampant in the Wasteland, showing signs of resurgence. We need comrades—desperately, desperately need them.” Chiba looked at Hestia. “What do you think? Are you willing to join us?”

Hestia couldn’t find words, only nodded stiffly.

“Then I’ll take you to the AHgA base in Tanyi City. You’ll receive special training there, learning how to identify and fight Chelation beings. By the way, I’ve arranged psychological support through the assistance program. If you have anything you can’t process, you can speak with a therapist. They’ll assess your mental state and determine if you’re fit for combat training... Am I making myself clear?”

Hestia nodded. “Miss Chiba, could you do me one more favor?”

“Hmm?”

“This clippings book... could you find a safe place to keep it for me?”

Chiba glanced at Hestia’s hands. “No problem.”

They got back into the car.

Hestia’s gaze grew distant as she stared ahead. She recalled the last time she saw Director Alma, noticing a trace of sadness behind the old woman’s smile.

What must have been Alma’s state of mind during her final month?

Suspicion? Fear? Regret? Perhaps other emotions mixed in—she would never know. That gentle, kind director became a conspirator in darkness at life’s end, forever trapped in the iron cage woven by herself and those around her.

Suddenly, Hestia remembered the anthropologist’s mention of the femur bone, Sister Gerdin and Director Alma’s constant emphasis on love and mutual aid, and the phrase: “When we are in hardship yet still able to help one another, that is the beginning of our civilization.”

Maybe she had never truly understood this. She had never realized how immense a courage it takes to seek help from one’s own kind—especially when the closer the person, the harder it is to speak out.

Chiba’s cigarette was almost burnt out. She stubbed it in the ashtray. “Do you have any other questions?”

Hestia shook her head.

“All right,” Chiba said cheerfully, starting the engine. “Then let’s go.”

The rear wheels of the off-road vehicle kicked up ochre dust. On the deserted mountain road, the two resumed their journey.