A Korean Office Worker Who Became a Nuisance Villainess in a Zombie Story - Chapter 97

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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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“Huh…?”
In an instant, I was pulled into Praha’s embrace.
Cradled against his firm, masculine chest, I felt neither the cold nor the salt-tinged sea air, nor fear—nothing at all. My senses, which had been open to the world, were now consumed entirely by the paradox of his body: muscles almost painfully rigid, yet contrasted by the soft warmth of his scent, and the feverish heat radiating from him.
“Why…?”
As I tried to lift my head, Praha gently pressed the back of my skull downward. His long fingers threaded through the damp strands of my freshly washed, loosened hair.
His calloused fingertips—rough at their edges—softly cradled my not-yet-dry hair before releasing it.
Though he applied no force, merely resting his hand lightly against me, I found myself unable to move.
With his lips pressed to the crown of my head, Praha whispered.
“Something is moving behind us.”
His words snapped my scattered thoughts back into focus.
‘Oh, of course.’
That made sense—he wouldn’t have suddenly embraced me without reason.
“Is it a zombie?”
“I’m uncertain.”
“Shouldn’t we go check?”
“It’s fine.”
“….”
“Just stay like this for a moment. Don’t move.”
With that, Praha fell silent. Buried as I was in his arms, I had no choice but to close my mouth as well and wait for him to make the first move.
“….”
“….”
With each breath Praha took, his body rose and fell gently.
Pressed against him like this, I became acutely aware of things I couldn’t ignore.
How solid his body was. How large. How utterly different from mine in every way. And what he might be thinking right now.
I started to shift my tangled legs to create distance, but realized it would only result in more contact, so I stopped.
The fine fabric of Praha’s shirt brushed against my cheek.
‘I want to see over his shoulder. But I can’t.’
I’d never once in my life thought my height was small, yet now I fit perfectly into Praha’s embrace like the small puppy I’d been holding earlier.
From behind Praha’s back, no one would even know I was here.
‘Did I really think earlier that it would be fine if time stopped like this?’
I’m certain I had that thought while standing with Praha, feeling the sea breeze.
I take that back.
If time stopped like this, it wouldn’t just be “fine”—it would be….
“Are you cold?”
“…No. I’m warm. How about you, Praha?”
“I’m hot.”
“You’re… hot?”
“…Yes. I’m hot.”
The lips pressed against the crown of my head moved slightly. His sharp nose—unmistakably defined—brushed once against my hair.
Praha, who had been holding me within the bounds of propriety, suddenly released me.
“It’s fine now.”
“What was that…?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I see.”
“Yes.”
“….”
“….”
To hide the awkwardness creeping into my chest, I redirected the conversation to something I’d just noticed.
“You have a scar on your collarbone.”
“It’s nothing significant.”
Praha pulled down his shirt collar and revealed the scar to me.
“Nothing significant…?”
Even I, ignorant of weapons, could tell. It was the mark of flesh torn away by something jagged, like teeth.
A wound that looked to be more than ten years old.
“Didn’t it hurt?”
“I wept.”
“You got it on the battlefield?”
“Yes.”
“…What happened to the person who gave you this scar?”
“They died.”
“I see….”
Was it cruel of me to feel relieved that someone had died?
But I couldn’t help it—I was inevitably on Praha’s side, and hearing that my opponent, whose name and face I didn’t even know, was dead brought me comfort.
Noticing that I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scar, Praha asked.
“Does it displease you to look at?”
“Not at all.”
“Many people have thought it looks unsightly.”
“…Many people?”
So he’d shown this to that many people? As I looked up with that question in my eyes, Praha added briefly.
“The war was long, so I had several different physicians.”
“Ah.”
Commenting on someone else’s wound like that. Strange people indeed.
Whatever those people said, I didn’t think that way. I carefully placed my fingertip on the scar that ran across just below his collarbone in a pale coral hue.
The moment my skin touched his flesh, Praha visibly flinched. I immediately withdrew my hand and spoke.
“Those who’ve never been wounded mock scars.”
1)
“….”
“You might think it’s nothing compared to what you’ve endured, but I haven’t lived my entire life without receiving any wounds either. I have enough sense not to mock another’s scars.”
“I don’t think that way.”
“…Pardon?”
“I don’t think your wounds are trivial.”
“….”
“Rather, I’d like to hear about them. What scars you carry, what hurt the most. What hurts the most now.”
“….”
“I’m not asking you to tell me right now. But when that time comes, I’ll listen gladly. Whenever it may be.”
Praha spoke with conviction, then straightened the unfastened buttons of his shirt.
Seeing me gaze up at him as if entranced, he spoke with a hint of embarrassment.
“I wanted to show you only beautiful things. Yet here I am, showing you this.”
…Could it be that he decorated everything within my sight with flowers simply because he wanted to show me only beautiful things?
The thought sent a tingling sensation through my fingertips like electricity. I pretended not to notice and joked instead.
“Then you should smile for me.”
“…What?”
“Did you forget? When a beautiful woman smiles, the world around her brightens.”
You promised back then in the Maze—to smile and not be melancholy.
Praha, watching me smile faintly, spoke.
“You’re smiling while saying such things.”
“Well, yes….”
I’m nowhere near as stunning as Praha.
But Praha didn’t seem to think so. He gazed directly into my eyes and spoke.
“I know this is an unreasonable request.”
“But…?”
“Could you perhaps give me a day’s—no, a month’s advance notice before you smile?”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Let’s go inside. Praha, who had spoken first, came to stand beside me.
By now, Praha had likely figured it out.
That I understood his feelings.
That I knew while pretending not to know.
‘And yet he waits. Without demanding an answer.’
That realization seemed to tighten something in my chest.
* * *
The next day, we set out before dawn.
After a simple breakfast and washing up, we headed toward the Upper Village we had scouted the day before.
Thanks to Yujein pouring her divine power into General whenever his energy returned, the dog—now completely recovered—trotted along beside us.
“Since we don’t know which way the dog will bolt, I’ll carry him!”
“N-no, I’ll hold him.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I carried him? He might cling to my leg again, after all.”
“….” (Quietly takes the dog away.)
Let me correct that.
Five full-grown adults were bickering over who would hold the puppy, passing him back and forth between their arms.
“Those footprints yesterday—they belonged to a child, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Children alone couldn’t have survived on this Island for such a long time. Do you think an adult is with them?”
“I’m not sure….”
Children are surprisingly resourceful and resilient. With supplies, they could easily survive two years trapped on a deserted island. That’s what happens in “Fifteen Boys Adrift.”
As we walked past the vegetable gardens planted between the villages, no people appeared.
However, some of the vegetables in the fields showed signs of being crudely harvested, so I could only guess that the owners of yesterday’s footprints had gathered them.
“This village is much larger than the Lower Village!”
Yujein exclaimed from the hilltop overlooking the village below.
Indeed, charming little houses stretched along the slope beneath us.
Single-story or two-story dwellings with mismatched sizes and shapes, their white walls topped with blue roofs. Beyond them, the turquoise Sea spread out like a backdrop.
“You’re right. It’s beautiful.”
There’s no need to spend 1.5 million won traveling to Santorini.
The problem was that there wasn’t a single person here.
“Woof!”
I handed the suddenly excited puppy to Tangerine and quickened my pace.
Each of us held a weapon in hand.
From a distance it looked beautiful, but descending revealed the same desolation as the Lower Village.
I gazed with a heavy heart at abandoned household items and dried red geranium flowers in window boxes that had withered from neglect, dust settling thickly upon them.
“There’s no one here either.”
“How far do we have to go to find any traces?”
“This is frustrating! At this point, wouldn’t it be better to just shout and call someone out!”
“What if dozens of zombies come rushing over…?”
“The Grand Duke will handle it!”
“Why me?”
“At least it’s daytime, so it’s less scary…?”
We searched house by house for about fifteen minutes.
“Ah, I just want to see something! Even bloodstains would do!”
When Tangerine, whose patience had reached its limit, cried out.
I discovered a red handprint stamped on the white outer wall of a small house with a mint-colored window frame.
“….”
“….”
“Ah, I just wish a fist-sized diamond would fall from the sky! Or at least a gold bar!”
“….”
“….”
“…Why not…. It’s worth trying, isn’t it….”
“My lady, so you wanted a diamond….”
“I’ll remember that.”
Praha responded seriously.
From then on, bloodstains and discarded shoes began appearing sporadically along the path.
I followed the sinister traces—clues so subtle that one would miss them without careful scrutiny. Before long, I found myself at the village’s edge.
There stood the Warehouse. A place where flour was ground, bread was baked, grain was stored, grapes were cultivated communally, and where people gathered whenever something momentous occurred.
“Woof!”
At that very moment, General leaped from Tangerine’s arms and bolted forward with frenzied barking.
“No…!”
Where are you going…!
[Uninhabited Island]
– Yusara, Praha, Cyprus, Yujein, Tangerine, General (Alive)
1) William Shakespeare, 【Romeo and Juliet】

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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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