Information
The notifications had started only showing up when he wanted them to, disappearing again the moment his focus left them. Which happened a lot. This actually seemed useful, given how distracting they would be in scary scenarios. Imagine lining up his shot, old man zombie almost on him, only to have his vision covered by a gaudy orange rectangle... Jack wondered if enough people faltered or died because of this phenomena that 'God' had to bug fix the issue in real time.
...Anyway. He once again summoned the achievement notification, which had faded during his grim contemplations:
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*Achievement Granted! (x2): Combination!
Automatic Achievement- Promising-ish Seed (previously +0.1 stat points)
Absorbed by: Common Achievement: Hypochondriac
Resulting Title: Less Annoying Hypochondriac
Reward: Information*
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... Combination achievement? ... And he only got information??? Where did his beautiful, comforting, conciliatory stat points go? He was looking for something to cling to, here. Jack checked his status again, confirmed no additional points, then forced himself to stop questioning the achievement. He needed to NOT activate the description before asking a few questions. If all he was getting was information, he needed to make it worth the loss.
"What is the best way to avoid getting infected? ...How long will the virus last outside of the body? ...Why are the stat points so limited? ...Why did my achievements eat each other, just to give us a chance to chat?? Why are the levels so TRA"-
Jack caught himself. He didn't want to offend the being. The achievements were now his last lifeline, so he couldn't afford to somehow jeopardize them. It probably wouldnt matter but, still. Besides, he had asked enough questions, and had a feeling that asking more would make the 'God' feel to lazy to respond. Now starting to feel some excitement, he opened the description.
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*Description: Promising-ish Seed awarded for being among first 100,000 people to level up.
-You did ok, but still kinda slow. Do betta next time, yah?
Absorbed by Hypochondriac, a common achievement, given to individuals who need to calm the fuck down about the virus.
-Why didn't your trope-something-whatever kick in? They never have to fucking mop in the movies. Its kinda fun to watch but also really boring. Jesus dude. You showered twice. I'm not here for that kind of show.
Result: You're annoying but still kinda fun! So you get to know a bit more. But this kind of information is going to cost you. Balance and bullshit. No points for you! Lol cry about it
Anzewayz. This virus is able to do what it does because it specializes subsections of its own population to certain tasks within each individual host. Once the base form of the virus overwhelms the body, it splits itself up into multiple genetic strains. By doing so, it ends up acting similarly to a sentient society. Individuals in a genetic pathway are solely dedicated to certain tasks that benefit the whole, altering and controlling the ecology of its host by becoming entire branches of that ecology.
Strains of the virus get better at certain things depending on what the host needs. Viruses generally function by hijacking host cells. This one shows a degree of restraint, with viruses in a pathway infecting only specific cells and only dedicating a small portion of cell activity to viral replication. For the most part, cells are made to follow pre-built complex functions, like photosynthesis and muscle growth. However, the viral strain behind these functions also undergoes a self-imposed evolutionary process, splitting the strain further to produce different effects. When zombies "mutate" its really those subsections of virus undergoing mutation and creating more specialized functions within themselves.
Viral strains mutate often, but undergo self-selection guided by feedback from the host body. This changes the host body, which in turn pushes those specialized functions of the virus further to compensate. Muscular host cells may be pushed to replicate many times over, then transition to reinforcing themselves with specific proteins when their numbers becomes too great. If the host is constantly running after prey, the virus may sense the chemicals released from that and instead push itself towards reinforcing the elasticity of muscle fibers and the enhancement of neural pathways used in coordination.
Overall, a zombie a few days old will have, maybe, 30% of its viral population building skin cells capable of photosynthesis, 30% imitating brain function, 20% growing muscle mass, and 20% waiting to act as vehicles of infection. A well-fed zombie a few years old would be a veritable city of different strains working to enhance the host. If the 'infection' strains of the virus weren't totally geared towards overwhelming the host to the point of death, it'd be awesome!
The one benefit to you in all this is that small portions of the virus don't do well on their own. It dedicates so much of itself to adaptation that it can't build things like capsids, which would let it survive outside of the body. It also needs a viral load too high to allow airborn transmission. Even the virus in saliva, where most of the "transmission" variant lives, will quickly die off once outside of the host for more than a few minutes. SO, fucktard, stop wasting your time crying about points and showering every 15 minutes.
Just don't like, try to drink zombie blood, avoid anything bigger than a golf ball, and you'll be fine.
Go outside and play.*
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Jack blinked. Holy info dump Batman! He honestly wondered if a mere .1 points was worth all that. He guessed it was worth about 33 levels, so like... 165 zombies... so maybe? But the being had even implied a lot of other things, which made him question if it was worth even double that amount.
One obvious element was that this virus was of clear intelligent design. Maybe some other species in the endless chain of self-destructing species had made it to better their lives, then made a miscalculation. Biology was sticky and life, uh, finds a way. There were other things he could extract from words 'God' had dropped in the explanation, but Derp woke him from his absorption of that knowledge.
His poor cat had been stuck in the bedroom with him the whole time! She must have been hiding ineffectively in one of the corners, waiting for the chaos to die down. He let her out. She should be safe wandering throughout the house for now.
Jack stopped for a moment. He... felt better. He had wasted a lot of day moping about. Looking at the office clock, it was nearly 3 now, but he felt... cleaner. Like throwing up some awful thing he'd eaten. Still a little shaky, but it had to get out. He'd make things work or just die. Nothing to lose!
He checked the back and front door, still no zombies in the surrounding area. He began to plan his venture, while shamefully transferring his zombie fighting gear to the dryer. It was time to take a walk around the neighborhood! He'd observe the surrounding streets and look for other survivors and mobility options. He couldn't use his gear while it was drying, but he'd want to stay mobile and light anyway!
...Ok, that was a stupid plan. He'd need at least some protections for anything real. But first he'd take a look at the street in front of his house. He found his third set of clothes for the day. Now, no longer naked, he took his first step out of his front door.
...It looked like the street he lived on. He had cleared the surroundings relatively well, and lived in a boring suburban neighborhood. So no shambling figures or crashed cars.
Some shattered windows on the surrounding houses, at least. One opened door three houses over, which was weird but not terrifying. No ominous music hinting at lurking danger. Just quiet. The street curved quickly on either side, so he couldn't even see that far. Maybe if he could it would be more impressive.
He lamely walked back inside. He had about an hour left to prepare before the dryer finished. Then! He'd have a dangerous adventure! ...A dangerventure!