A Korean Office Worker Who Became a Nuisance Villainess in a Zombie Story - Chapter 145
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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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The first thing I sensed was a repugnant odor that assaulted my sense of smell.
The stench of sweat. The reek of dust. The stale smell of unwashed clothing.
And… the metallic scent of blood.
‘Like a kitchen that hasn’t been ventilated in a hundred years.’
One where steaks are grilled frequently.
Cyprus, who had torn off a shirt button and tossed it forward to test the space, informed me that the area ahead was considerably more expansive than expected.
“I don’t hear any sound of it hitting something and stopping. It just vanished. And.”
“Yeah. There’s a staircase.”
How many staircases have I descended today already?
‘My precious knees.’
My habit is to use the stairs when going up, but to take an escalator when coming down….
I stood beside Cyprus, mentally vowing to apply a warm compress to my knees once we escaped this place.
“How far down do you think we need to go?”
“I’m not sure. But I suspect it’s quite a descent.”
Fortunately, lights illuminated the walls as we descended, making the journey manageable.
“It appears someone travels through here frequently.”
Praha, who had been following at the rear due to my insistent demands, observed the pristine condition of the dust-free staircase and offered his assessment.
“At this level of cleanliness, I’d estimate the stairs are cleaned at least once daily.”
“Indeed. I do hope we can find those Servants who went ahead quickly…”
Cyprus’s voice, which had been responding with good humor, suddenly cut off.
By then, I too could see the space revealed at the bottom of the staircase.
“….”
“….”
“…Good heavens.”
Yes, truly ‘good heavens.’
What lay before my eyes was a colossal space.
Not a Secret Room, but rather a ‘Secret Hall,’ an ‘Underground 3-Level Facility’—something that demanded such grandiose nomenclature.
“Is it really safe to hollow out the underground like this…? Won’t it collapse?”
Cyprus muttered with evident exasperation.
My thoughts exactly.
If the Casino’s Underground Warehouse had suddenly sprawled like an unfolded city, then this place descended into the depths.
Below the Basement Level 1 where we stood lay Basement Level 2 and Level 3, with brightly illuminated spaces visible at Level 3. The structure was designed with an open center, allowing a view of the Level 3 space from anywhere above.
In the center of the space stood a pillar so massive that several Cypriuses embracing it would scarcely encircle it, stretching from floor to ceiling.
“How deep can you dig without it collapsing?”
“Indeed.”
The engineering is remarkable. They could open a subway line immediately.
And on Basement Levels 1 and 2….
“Ugh….”
“Ugh….”
Zombies were crammed densely against the walls that encircled the pillar.
A scene resembling a prison where zombies were confined.
Without bothering to conceal our arrival, the zombies’ clouded gazes fixed upon us.
“Ughhhh….”
Clang, clang.
The zombies grasping the iron bars opened their mouths.
Children, the elderly, young adults…. Each opened their mouth, yet no sound emerged.
Their tongues had been severed.
The sight of zombies clutching the iron bars, each bearing a soul stone embedded in their chests, appeared to my eyes like a wave of crimson stones.
“…So all of Promé’s human trafficking victims ended up here.”
Praha, who had drawn beside me, spoke.
“Yes. Given their severed tongues….”
I was about to respond with a heavy heart.
“You came? Faster than I expected.”
A familiar voice echoed from the central space of Basement Level 3.
Simultaneously, a massive pillar embedded there began to rotate.
As it turned toward us, I could see a rectangular hollow carved into the middle of the pillar.
A position resembling a broadcast booth, or perhaps a judge’s seat.
Mocha sat in that place—a seat that seemed like the throne of a god surveying and passing judgment upon all these wretched souls.
Legs crossed, leaning back against the plush red cushioned backrest.
Like the master of this realm.
Mocha, resting his elbow on the armrest with his chin propped in his hand, smiled wickedly.
“Where one must spend 100 gold coins each night merely to obtain an entrance ticket….”
Now, no longer feigning that coquettish tone, his low voice traveled through a specialized magical apparatus, resonating clearly across the entire space.
“Welcome to Sodom’s true gambling house.”
“….”
“Here, every night you can witness fights between humans and the living dead. You simply place your wagers on how long a human who steps onto this stage bare-handed will survive.”
“….”
“Ah, if you wish, you’re welcome to bet on the human’s victory. Though admittedly, the corpses have won every single time thus far. Thanks to that, we’ve accumulated so many undead competitors.”
Mocha’s hand, cosmetics smudged on its back, gestured toward the zombies densely filling the 1st and 2nd Floors.
Yet my gaze had already drifted elsewhere.
A zombie revealed as the pillar rotated—pinned to the pillar’s wall with nails.
“Ugghhhhh….”
Incapable of feeling pain, merely looking about in confusion, blood streamed from tubes inserted into that zombie’s arms and neck.
A grotesque spectacle of draining a zombie’s blood.
That blood flowing and flowing….
“Ah, this?”
Mocha chuckled upon seeing the direction of my gaze.
“You know? There’s no going backward with stimulation. Once people witness a spectacle like this, they can never return to how they were before.”
“…What do you mean….”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? The moment they’ve tasted it, they spend 100 gold coins and return for the next match, then the next, and the next after that… until they’re ultimately ruined.”
“….”
“In Sodom, failing to repay a debt is a serious crime, right? If you don’t have the money to pay back, you have no choice but to become a player yourself.”
Mocha clenched his fist and made a playful gesture of thrusting it forward.
“This blood is necessary for cowards too terrified to face corpses, for those who would rather become zombie players themselves.”
“…I see.”
“Don’t worry. Your younger sibling hasn’t reached the point of coming here yet.”
What are you talking about?
My younger sibling has already seen enough to be a full-fledged addict.
Don’t you dare reevaluate my sibling on your own terms.
“So what you’re saying is, Sodom has already been infested with moving corpses for quite some time… and you’ve been fortunate enough to capture them and use them like this? And victims of human trafficking are being sacrificed to this as well?”
I organized Mocha’s words in my mind.
‘I thought at best I’d only see the Lord’s dead father turned into a zombie and bound up.’
The scale of the crime was larger than I’d anticipated.
Now I noticed there were massive cages large enough for people scattered throughout—on the ceiling, beside the stage, and elsewhere.
The space where “human players” would normally be kept now held servants of this estate whose faces I recognized.
I noticed a servant positioned where the blood drawn from the zombie’s neck flowed through the coffin.
It was the Servant—the one who’d come to install a carpet door in my room—with a swollen face as if he’d been thoroughly beaten.
I asked Mocha.
“…So, what’s your reason for doing all this?”
“Ah, you’re curious about that!”
Mocha laughed.
“You’re quite unusual, Princess. First you were curious about my name, and now you’re curious about my motives.”
“…Isn’t it natural to be curious?”
“Most nobles don’t care about the names or stories of commoners. Our Lord was a prime example of that.”
“….”
That’s just because they lack manners….
“Fine, since you’re curious, Princess—I’ll explain it specially for you.”
Mocha leaned forward. Even from a distance, the eyes of the makeup-smeared man gleamed vividly.
“Originally, this city was one that served the Underworld God and the God of Marriage. Until the newly ascended Lord of Sodom—the current Lord’s father—began supporting the God of Indulgence.”
That man created both Sodom’s current execution method and the underground arena.
The first humans dragged away were priests who served those two deities.
But it seems the God thought that wasn’t enough and devised new entertainment.
“Do you know why the current Lord Madeline is so zealously devoted to the God?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Because the God of Indulgence warned her in advance that moving corpses would appear in the city. To Madeline, the youngest daughter of the Lord, someone far removed from succession.”
“….”
“Thanks to the God’s warning, Madeline could know in advance that corpses would appear. She was the first to turn her own father into a moving corpse. That’s how she seized power.”
And then she created this very space—the ultimate pleasure ground offered to the God who helped her.
“So, the reason I’m doing this here….”
“….”
“Would it help explain things if I told you my younger sibling was among the first Priests dragged away?”
“…What?”
I doubted my own ears.
Seeing my expression, Mocha grinned widely.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now—that’s exactly it.”
“….”
“I watched my sibling’s match directly. I liquidated my entire fortune.”
Mocha spoke languidly about how he’d tried to save them but failed, gesturing dramatically with his hand.
“So you’re here now to take revenge…?”
“Ah, I’ve already had my revenge.”
Leisurely, Mocha leaned back against the chair’s backrest.
Praha, who had been silent, asked.
“How did you take your revenge? Does it have something to do with what you stole?”
“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be fun.”
Mocha, who had spoken to me so gently, was cold toward Praha.
Looking back at me, Mocha spoke as if to himself.
“I was trying to save you.”
“….”
“You should have kept your promise. I told you to come alone.”
There was only one answer I could give to such words.
“No. I’d rather die boldly together than live cowardly alone, abandoning my comrades.”
“Yes, truly, what a shame this has become.”
“….”
“Among the families of the children brought here, there’s said to be a Priest. It would be faster to search for them here.”
At the same moment, Mocha sprang up from his seated position.
Approaching the zombie fixed beneath him, Mocha grasped the needle lodged in the zombie’s neck and pulled it out.
Blood droplets fell in succession. The zombie’s mouth opened.
Mocha was smiling even as he brought the tube’s end to his lips.
There was no time to be horrified.
A lightning-swift realization struck me.
“…That blood.”
“Yes? What did you say, Yusara?”
“What Mocha stole was that blood. He mixed it into the fountains throughout the castle. When people return…they’ll drink that blood and become infected.”
But it was already too late.
[Yusara and the Secret 3-Level Building]
-Yusara, Praha, Cyprus, Yujein (Surviving)
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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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