Early in the morning, the door to the temporary laboratory at Brest University Hospital opened.
The joint investigation team dispatched by the French Ministry of Health and the WHO had arrived. Experts with cold expressions took over the space, setting up all manner of analytical equipment.
Taeho stood silently in one corner, watching them.
“So far, the same virus has been detected in all fifteen patients.”
Dr. Helena Müller, a virologist from the WHO, said as she flipped through dozens of pages of data. But there was a strange note of doubt in her voice.
“It’s oddly… ordinary. We can’t find any distinctive features.”
Pierre Leclerc, a veteran epidemiological investigator from the French Ministry of Health, nodded in agreement.
“The results of the standard genetic sequencing analysis are the same. It falls within the range of mutations commonly found in known coronavirus lineages—nothing more, nothing less.”
Professor Durand approached Taeho with an anxious look.
“Dr. Kang, if they come to that conclusion…”
“It’s too early to decide yet.”
Unlike the calm Taeho, Durand fidgeted as he waited for the results.
At last, the conclusion of the seventy-two-hour investigation was delivered.
Dr. Helena Müller began the final briefing on behalf of the joint investigation team.
“In conclusion, we have provisionally determined that this virus is naturally occurring. All data, including its RNA structure and replication mechanism, remain within the category of existing viral mutations.”
She snapped the report shut and added,
“The route of infection is also presumed to be a typical contact infection mediated by seafood consumed together at the conference venue. With that, we will conclude the investiga—”
“Wait a moment.”
Taeho rose from his seat.
Every gaze in the conference room flew to him and fixed there.
Dr. Helena’s brows twitched in displeasure.
“Dr. Kang, we are an official investigation team composed of the world’s leading experts, and we are trying to draw a conclusion after a sufficient investigation. What objection are you trying to raise?”
“I do not doubt your expertise or your hard work.”
Taeho spoke in a courteous yet firm voice.
“But might it be possible to expand the scope of the analysis just a little further?”
At those words, the brows of the WHO investigation team—and especially those of its leader, Helena Müller—creased.
She was far from pleased that this young doctor from Asia was challenging the analysis they had spent seventy-two hours conducting. It was even harder to trust him when it felt as though he was interfering solely on the strength of his title as special adviser to the WHO.
Just then, Gihwan, who had been sitting beside Taeho, quietly rose from his seat.
“Good morning. I am Dr. Seong Gihwan. I specialize in immunogenetics, and I am currently researching viral vector–based immunotherapies at the Geumsan Research Institute.”
Helena looked Gihwan over with sharp eyes. Something seemed to surface in her memory.
Ah, hadn’t he said he was a Harvard alumnus?
“Dr. Seong Gihwan, then.”
Seong Gihwan gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and went straight to the point.
“Your analysis seems to have focused primarily on the functional aspects of the virus—in other words, the protein-coding regions. May I ask whether you conducted an in-depth review of the non-coding regions as well, which are not directly related to function?”
“The non-coding regions?”
Investigator Pierre of the French Ministry of Health repeated, sounding puzzled.
“Isn’t that the part with no function, the so-called ‘junk DNA’? What exactly would you find there?”
“The greatest topic of discussion in modern genetics is that treasures may be hidden within that junk.”
Gihwan exchanged a brief glance with Taeho, then continued.
“Especially in the case of viruses that have been artificially genetically engineered, traces are often left in the places that appear the most useless.”
“Artificially synthesized?”
Helena snorted.
She had been willing to listen because he was a fellow alumnus, but now he was spouting nonsense.
“Dr. Seong, this is a place for discussing scientific data. It is unacceptable to advance conspiracy theories without clear evidence!”
The air froze cold at her icy voice.
Taeho picked up where Gihwan had left off.
“In that case, I would like to propose a simple hypothesis test to find evidence.”
Taeho looked around at the entire investigation team as he spoke.
“Let us analyze what the patients have in common from a different angle.”
“What commonality are you referring to?”
“As a clinician, I focused on the patients themselves. If this virus binds specifically to a certain receptor, what kind of host would it prefer most?”
Taeho spoke smoothly, as though presenting an answer he had prepared for a long time.
“The dopamine receptor genotype. Specifically, the DRD4 gene—among its variants, the 7-repeat allele, or 7R allele.”
“What does that have to do with viral infection?”
Helena now looked almost dumbfounded.
“What if this virus does not cause indiscriminate infection, but was designed from the beginning to selectively infiltrate only hosts with a specific gene?”
Taeho answered her question with another.
“Those with the DRD4-7R variant have a different density of dopamine receptors. What if the virus uses this receptor as its route of entry?”
Helena was still skeptical, but as a scientist, her curiosity was piqued by the word “designed” and by the specific genotype.
As if reluctantly giving in, she picked up her tablet and reopened the patients’ genetic data.
Only the sound of typing echoed through the conference room.
Several minutes of silence.
And then, at last, Helena’s face stiffened. It said more than any words could.
“…This can’t be.”
She murmured in disbelief.
“All fifteen of them are carriers of the DRD4-7R variant. This kind of coincidence is statistically impossible. It’s impossible based on the general population, and even after considering the characteristics of a researcher group, the probability is still less than 0.01 percent.”
The air in the conference room changed abruptly. Professor Durand, his face pale, looked over the patient list again and muttered,
“Professor Yamada, Dr. Müller, Dr. Davis… They are all geniuses regarded as the most creative in their respective fields.”
Taeho drove the point home.
“The DRD4-7R variant is also called the ‘explorer gene.’ It is commonly found in people with abnormally high creativity and concentration. Now, would you agree that our hypothesis is not merely a conspiracy theory?”
Instead of answering, Helena turned her head toward Taeho.
“We’ll have to review it again. If we are to look for artificial patterns, what algorithm should we use?”
“You can use the signature analysis program I developed.”
Gihwan, who was beside him, handed over a USB drive as if he had been waiting for that exact moment.
“It is specialized for distinguishing naturally occurring mutations from artificially inserted base sequences.”
Helena was finally convinced completely. She connected the USB drive to her analysis system and began scanning the non-coding regions, which she had not even glanced at before, with precision.
Thirty minutes later.
Her face had gone deathly pale.
“We found it. It really was there. There is a clear artificial sequence in non-coding region cluster three.”
Helena spoke in a trembling voice.
Gihwan asked, his voice filled with excitement.
“What are the database matching results?”
“Global Pharma. It matches 98 percent with the base sequence of a viral vector patent registered in 2019. And the project name is ‘Prometheus.’”
Prometheus!
Taeho and Seong Gihwan’s eyes met in midair. The word Professor Yamada had been unable to finish had appeared again.
Helena stared fixedly at the tablet screen and murmured,
“This kind of coincidence is impossible.”
Her voice held the certainty of a scientist. But at the same time, it was tinged with unease.
Durand spoke cautiously.
“But that still doesn’t mean we can immediately conclude it was artificial, does it? What about other possibilities? For example, the possibility that researchers of this type were exposed to a specific region or environment.”
Everyone was weighing the possibilities in their own minds.
Taeho carefully opened his mouth.
“Remember Professor Yamada’s testimony.”
Pierre said in a trembling voice,
“Surely you don’t mean it was truly intentional?”
Helena checked the tablet again.
“Statistically speaking… no, this is completely beyond the range of what statistics can explain.”
Professor Durand let out a deep sigh.
“If, truly if, this was intentional…”
“Then it would be a targeted attack.”
Taeho finished his sentence.
At that very moment, the conference room door opened and Michael Thompson, head of the WHO emergency response team, stepped inside. He had come to receive a report, but the atmosphere in the room and the genetic data displayed on the screen made him immediately sense that something was very wrong.
“What’s going on?”
Thompson asked.
Helena stood and calmly reported everything they had discovered so far. She explained the genetic match rate, Yamada’s testimony, and even the connection to Global Pharma.
As he listened to the full report, Thompson’s face grew darker and darker.
“Are you certain?”
“I cannot say with 100 percent certainty. But all the evidence we have so far points in the same direction.”
Helena answered honestly.
Thompson fell into thought for a moment. In his thirty years working at the WHO, he had experienced countless crises, but this kind of threat was a first.
At last, he made his decision.
“We need further investigation. But if this truly was an intentional attack… we may be facing an unprecedented threat.”
Gihwan whispered softly to Taeho.
“This is only the beginning, Director.”
Taeho nodded.
***
The air in the conference room at Brest University Hospital was like a taut bowstring. Beneath the bright fluorescent lights, red lines tangled like a spider’s web across the whiteboard, tracing the movements of the patients.
The red dot of the laser pointer in the epidemiological investigator’s hand swept over the map, narrowing in on the heart of the incident.
“The points of common contact have been narrowed down to two locations. First, the seafood buffet table in the center of the exhibition hall. And second, the champagne tasting corner beside it.”
On the large screen in the conference room, the names and movements of conference participants were layered over one another. Blue dots indicated mild cases, orange dots moderate cases, and red dots severe patients.
Like a map of casualties on a battlefield, most of the red dots overlapped with terrifying precision atop two movement routes.
Professor Durand unfolded the arms he had been keeping tightly crossed.
“Are you saying the seafood and champagne were the vectors?”
“We can’t say for certain, but…”
The investigator nodded.
“They are the strongest suspected causes. In particular, it has been confirmed that the champagne far exceeded its refrigerated storage time and was exposed to room temperature for a long period.”
Taeho asked,
“Have you secured samples? Leftover seafood, champagne residue, cloths used to wipe the tables—even the ice water that might have cultured plankton?”
“The field team is collecting them now. However…”
He trailed off, looking away awkwardly.
“A moment ago, an official notice arrived from the French health authorities. It orders that all collected evidence be transferred immediately to a designated external advisory institution.”
A cold silence. Every movement in the conference room stopped.
Professor Durand picked up a sheet of official correspondence from the windless tabletop. His eyes rapidly scanned the legally binding sentences.
“An external advisory institution? Where are they talking about?”
“Mediarise Consulting.”
The investigator turned the email screen toward them.
“I only know that it is a private specialized institution that advises the government on major health projects.”
Mediarise Consulting.
The moment that unfamiliar name rang in Taeho’s ears, Rema analyzed the keyword in real time and brought up the company information on the screen.
The year of establishment, address, and list of board members appeared.
“What kind of place is it?”
Professor Renault asked bluntly, arms crossed.
“If the state designated it, shouldn’t it be trustworthy?”
“That place is a subsidiary of Global Pharma.”
Taeho’s voice was low, but it was powerful enough to swallow every sound in the conference room.
“The destruction of evidence has begun.”