A Korean Office Worker Who Became a Nuisance Villainess in a Zombie Story - Chapter 14

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A heavy silence fell over our group.
There was no portal.
The Crown Prince stated it matter-of-factly, but for those of us listening, it felt like a punch to the gut.
The Grand Duke, his brow furrowed, asked a question.
“You’re certain the portal is in the Kitchen?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
And as far as I know, that’s true as well.
‘It doesn’t make logical sense. If the portal is our only means of crossing this Island, there would be more than just one.’
There would be at least two as a contingency against malfunction. If so, they would have installed one in the Kitchen, where supplies are constantly moved.
Seeing our group fall silent, the Crown Prince added an explanation.
“There is no door leading to a portal in the Kitchen. It must be hidden. So during our rest, I tapped every wall, but found no hollow spaces behind them.”
At those words, everyone looked around the space.
There were only two doors.
The one we entered through, leading to the Corridor, and a side door that opened directly outside the building.
There was no door leading to a portal anywhere.
“Could it be in an adjacent room?”
“The Kitchen has no adjacent rooms. It’s a protruding section of the building structure.”
“What about other rooms near the Kitchen?”
“That would be the Washroom. I doubt supplies would be brought in through a bathroom.”
“Then what Your Highness is saying is….”
“The portal is in here. I simply haven’t found it yet.”
The Crown Prince remained composed, acknowledging his own shortcoming.
From their expressions alone, I could tell what everyone was thinking.
‘There’s no one here who could find what the Crown Prince couldn’t.’
Yujein, with her long hair, brushed it back and forced her lips upward with effort.
“It should be fine. We don’t necessarily have to go through here… we can just head back to the main portal we came from. Then we can return, right?”
The moment she finished speaking, a piercing shriek echoed from the Corridor—the cry of a zombie. Supporting Character 2 muttered blankly.
“How are we supposed to get all the way there…. We barely made it down just one floor, and it was this hard.”
“Still….”
“I came here absolutely convinced we only had to reach the Kitchen. I really can’t take another step….”
Tears began to well up in Supporting Character 2’s eyes as she crouched down.
Yujein, biting her lip, tried to comfort Supporting Character 2.
“Or we could search more carefully this time. If we all look together, we can find it.”
“How are we supposed to find what even Your Highness couldn’t find…!”
“I knew this would happen. That’s why I said we should’ve left these deadweights behind and gone on our own!”
“Paprika.”
“Brother, this time I’m not wrong! We dragged these useless luggage along and now look at this! I’m exhausted too!”
The Troublemaker jumped to his feet and gulped down some fruit wine from the ice bucket on the cart.
He drank it crudely, spilling it everywhere, then pointed at Supporting Character 2 with the hand holding the bottle.
“Look at her now, just sniveling away!”
Anyone looking at this would think Supporting Character 2 was the one who hid the portal.
At those words, even Mascarpone, who had been holding back, let tears stream down her face.
I stood there blankly while my companions suddenly fell into despair.
‘Is this really… something to despair over?’
The portal isn’t missing—it’s just hidden. Either way, there is a portal here, isn’t there?
So we just need to find it.
If we really can’t find it, we can always use the main portal.
‘The Crown Prince, who knows this villa’s layout better than anyone, says he couldn’t find the portal, so everyone’s panicking.’
But the Crown Prince only searched for about ten minutes, didn’t he?
We just need to find it.
‘And there’s someone here who might understand magical portals even better than the Crown Prince.’
Though she’s crying at the moment.
With that thought, I looked at that ‘someone who might understand.’
“Oh, heavens…”
Mascarpone, who until just moments ago had been trying to maintain composure despite her sharp demeanor, was now calling out to the gods while tearing up.
‘Why is she suddenly calling for divine help?’
I let out a quiet laugh and spoke to Mascarpone.
“Just because others called you baggage doesn’t mean you have to actually think of yourself that way.”
“…What are you saying right now…?”
“If you don’t do anything, even the gods can’t help you.”
So why not trust your own mind instead of the gods?
I lifted the corners of my mouth into a smile as Mascarpone stared at me blankly, tears forgotten.
“If you’re going to cry, escape from here first and do it somewhere safe. You’re wasting energy.”
“If we escape from here, there’s nothing to cry about!”
“Then don’t cry.”
“Ugh!”
Mascarpone rubbed her eyes vigorously with her palms, shot me a glare, and clicked her tongue. As I continued to mock her—which was admittedly irritating just to watch—her tears seemed to vanish entirely.
‘I have to give her credit for her pride, at least.’
Even if we don’t get along.
I beckoned to Mascarpone as she wiped her reddened eyes.
“Now that you’ve stopped crying, help me out.”
“What do you want?!”
“Since this situation erupted, I’ve been following along and forgot—but the person best equipped to solve this problem is you, Mascarpone, isn’t it?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Mascarpone’s family runs a trading company that distributes magical supplies. They’d naturally be the most knowledgeable among us about magical portals like this.
Isn’t Mascarpone’s mother the Imperial Family’s mage?
“The portal in this building—your family installed it, didn’t they?”
“…Yes. My late grandmother had it installed.”
Even while crying, Mascarpone lifted her chin proudly at the mention of her family. I held back the urge to tease her about it and continued my questioning.
“Then you’d also know well the conditions required for where a portal can be installed, wouldn’t you?”
“Rather than a public building.”
“Explain it to me. Where can it be installed?”
“…Well, first you need a space of considerable size. It has to withstand the sudden burst of mana. Usually they’re installed outdoors, but if it absolutely must go indoors, you reinforce the walls to be quite thick so they don’t collapse.”
“Hmm. But this place doesn’t have thick walls, does it?”
This was the protruding section of a U-shaped building. Open the door and you’re either in a corridor or outside. The wall thickness was uniform throughout.
I examined Yujein’s ankle.
‘I don’t know much about kitchen work, admittedly.’
The most commonly used salve in a kitchen is for burns or knife cuts, isn’t it? Yet they don’t even have that, so why would they bother stocking salve and bandages for sprains?
The floor here doesn’t look particularly slippery either.
Unless people frequently get hurt climbing up and down ladders.
But then again, the shelf heights in the kitchen are quite low….
“Ah!”
Mascarpone’s voice cut through my train of thought.
“In single-story houses, they sometimes dig into the ground to install portals! In those cases, they place fragile objects on top to detect vibrations coming up from below….”
Mascarpone’s voice gradually slowed. Soon her gaze, now completely silent, turned toward the corner.
A kitchen where sugar covered every foothold. In particular, one spot where sugar lay especially thick. Where a sugar sculpture the size of two grown men combined lay collapsed.
“I’ll clean this up.”
Dazling quickly approached and grabbed a sack, sweeping the sugar from the floor.
The Crown Prince and the Grand Duke who had come over carefully tapped the floor and then.
“It’s hollow.”
They announced the good news.
“Wow!”
‘So that’s why there was so much sugar—it was camouflage.’
We found it more easily than expected.
“Did the Head Chef send the kitchen servants through the portal, then lock the door last, scatter sugar to hide the entrance, and commit suicide?”
“If the servants succeeded in escaping, I doubt he would have committed suicide. The problem is how we open this.”
Mascarpone, who seemed to gain confidence from having been helpful, approached the Crown Prince and Grand Duke as they pondered the matter.
Mascarpone, examining the floor, spoke.
“It appears to be the type of portal that generates a handle when it recognizes a registered owner. In this case, since it showed no response even to the Crown Prince, the portal’s owner must be the Head Chef.”
“How does owner recognition work?”
“Usually through a palm or face.”
It’s just like unlocking a smartphone. The Crown Prince and I spoke simultaneously.
“It’s probably the face.”
“It’s probably the face.”
And our eyes met. The Crown Prince spoke.
“Please speak, my lady.”
“Ah, yes.”
It wasn’t anything special.
I spoke to the people looking at me.
“The Head Chef gets his hands wet constantly, so his fingerprints… the surface of his fingers would be completely worn down. His hands are often covered with things anyway. Rather than troubling himself to wash his hands every time and open the door, he’d have set it to his face.”
It had to be the face. A corpse’s fingerprints wouldn’t register anyway.
“I share the same opinion as the princess.”
Fortunately, the Head Chef’s face—the one Dazling had beheaded earlier—remained intact.
“Once it recognizes the owner, it responds to their will afterward. You can shout ‘Open!’ or make a gesture.”
“Does it have to be the owner?”
“No.”
“Then this should be simple.”
The Grand Duke coolly rose and picked up the Head Chef’s severed head from where he’d left it.
“Sorry, chef.”
He muttered the apology half-heartedly, then pressed it directly against what appeared to be the door.
Click. The handle rose.
Supporting Character 2, who had been peering through the portal with her head tilted, tilted it further.
“The portal handle is… red? Was it marked that way for easy identification?”
No.
That wasn’t a marking.
That was…
Thud.
At the same moment, someone from below knocked on the ceiling.
From ‘someone’s’ perspective, it was the ceiling. From ours, it was the floor.
My spine went cold.
My tense mind spun rapidly.
‘If the Head Chef had sent the servants through the portal first, a rescue team would have arrived. I know the Imperial Palace is intact, even if others don’t. So whatever’s down there isn’t human.’
Thud.
Why didn’t the Head Chef use the portal and instead commit suicide here? Why did he scatter sugar throughout the entire room to hide the entrance before dying? As if desperately hoping no one would find it.
Thud. Thud.
My eyes met those of the anxious people around me. They were all clearly thinking the same thing.
What if the Head Chef hadn’t sent the servants through the portal first, but had locked the zombified servants down there instead?
Only the Troublemaker failed to read the atmosphere.
“I’m going first!”
The Troublemaker hurled his bottle and charged toward the door.
“Move!”
“Papri!”
Dazling blocked him with his arm, but—
“‘Open!'”
His ‘will’ couldn’t be stopped.
Thud. Thud.
The door began opening at the exact moment the male leads threw themselves forward.
Oh my god, that absolute freaking crazy son of a—
[Imperial Villa First Floor Kitchen]
– Yusara, Yujein, Crown Prince, Grand Duke, Dazling, Mascarpone, Supporting Character 2, Troublemaker (Alive)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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