The night passed quickly, and by morning, Callan had finally regained consciousness. A whole night's rest had restored color to his face, though he was still physically weak.

Grace had kept watch outside his room all night. As soon as she learned that he was awake, she immediately walked in.

"Callan, I'm the official in charge of handling this outbreak. I need to ask you several questions, and I kindly request that you answer them truthfully. Understood?" Grace said, getting straight to the point.

"Yes," he replied, nodding with visible apprehension.

"When did you first get infected?"

"I'm not sure how long I was unconscious, but from what I remember, it started about three days ago. I suddenly felt dizzy and weak, with chills running through my entire body," Callan said weakly.

He went on, "At first, I assumed it was just a common cold, so I took some medicine. But the symptoms kept worsening, and by the time I realized something was seriously wrong, it was already too late."