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A Corporate Slave Becomes a Villainous Nuisance in a Zombie Apocalypse
Episode 39
The eve of departure.
I had to make a decision.
'I can't put this off any longer.'
The Duke who entered the Prayer Room had not become a zombie.
But his strange behavior remained unchanged.
'Either I admit I overreacted and release ‌‌the Duke, or I roll up his sleeves right now and search for bite marks.'
That ‌‌‌‌was why I found myself walking through the Corridor in the dead of night when ‌‌everyone was asleep.
With a neck collar on my arm.
'This isn't Schrödinger's zombie—what is this?'
Is the Duke in the Prayer Room a zombie or not?
I had no idea!
'I should have finished reading that novel if I'd known it would come to this.'
I was paying the price for my usual ‌‌‌‌lack of perseverance.
'If we ‌‌‌‌can settle this today, that's fortunate. If not, I'll have to tell Praha.'
I couldn't leave a risk behind and depart.
What's wrong with being overly cautious about safety? Safety is safety.
Jingle. Jingle.
As I walked through the silent Corridor, ‌the bundle of keys from the Head Maid that I clutched in my hand jingled ‌‌constantly.
A cool chill seeped through my feet in indoor slippers. ‌‌‌
Faint moonlight streaming through ‌‌windows with all curtains removed.
A high-ceilinged, antiquated Western Mansion. A long Corridor. Portraits and suits of armor.
If I looked back, the silver armor would ‌‌‍seem to creak and shift, and the carpet beneath my feet felt sticky—as if blood were seeping through when I looked down.
"Hoo-ooh...."
I was terrified.
I hurried forward and inserted the key into the Study door.
The heavy key wouldn't turn properly, so I shook it up and down frantically before finally managing to slip inside and close the door.
"Ah!"
My heart nearly stopped at the sight of a massive portrait looming from the darkness.
"What the—are you serious? Why didn't they paint the eyes...."
Directly across from the door, positioned above a massive desk, hung a portrait of an elderly man with no pupils.
Papers scattered messily here and there.
A low temperature.
The smell of stale dust.
My first destination.
My younger brother's Study.
"...."
I locked the door first, then set down the candle I'd brought onto the desk.
"Phew."
I exhale, and white breath scatters into the cold air.
The Study, which the master had abandoned for over ten days, seemed never to have had a fire lit in it during all that time.
I approached the ‌‌desk, deliberately ignoring the persistent sensation ‌‌‌‌‌I'd felt since earlier—that ‌prickling awareness of being watched.
"Let's see... the drawer... Is it locked? No, it isn't."
My reason for coming here with the key was simple. ‌‌‌
To uncover the whereabouts of ‌‌‌my missing younger brother.
'What if my brother has already become ‌‌‌a zombie and the Duke is hiding him ‌‌‌somewhere like the Underground? And what if ‌‌‌‌my brother's nails scratched the Duke, and now he's in the process of transforming too? Like some zombie apocalypse cliché.'
Whether my brother had genuinely gone out or simply vanished without a trace. ‌‌‌‌
There would be ‌evidence here.
Fortunately, my brother didn't seem to be the meticulous type.
"Found it."
In the first drawer, among a disorganized pile of letters, ‌‌‌I quickly discovered a clue.
Clue 1.
An invitation from some nobleman to my brother.
Judging by the gold leaf used on the envelope and the quality of the paper, the sender was from a wealthy family.
I tilted my head, studying the ornate purple coat of arms.
"I've seen ‌‌this family crest somewhere before."
Well, anyway.
I carefully ‌held ‌‌‌the letter beneath the candlelight, making sure it wouldn't catch fire.
Summarizing the crudely scrawled contents roughly:
-To my brother-
I've ‌found an incredible gambling establishment.
I've even secured a useful accomplice. ‌
I know your luck hasn't been great ‌‌‌lately, but this time is different. ‌‌‌‌
Just one more time—trust me this last time.
Have I ever given you ‌‌a proposal that worked against you? Didn't I introduce you to that opera singer last time?
If this works out, we'll pay off all the debts at once. And so on and so forth.
Of course, with stakes this high, there's a slight element of risk involved, but you're a bold man, and you're the heir to the Duke's House, aren't you?
You can naturally handle that much.
Don't worry about securing funds.
My father's Bank will specially use your Mansion in the Capital as collateral... (at this point, I let out a sharp cry).
I don't think we need to inform the Duke. You're the man of the family, after all.
If this works out anyway, it's money we can pay back completely.
Surely you're not getting cold feet?
-Your friend who trusts without doubt that you're a true man-
And on the desk lay an unopened envelope from the Bank.
I boldly tore ‌‌it open.
"...."
Clue 2. A loan ‌‌‌document.
On the day Yusara went to the Villa, this bastard borrowed money from ‌‌‌the Bank.
Using this Mansion in the Capital as collateral.
The branch office that agreed ‌‌to receive the loan was.
"Sodom?"
If ‌‌‌‌‌‌it's Sodom, that's a region far south of the Capital.
He went all the way there to gamble?
Clue 3. A letter sent by the lord of Gomorra, near Sodom.
Contents: It is an honor that the heir of the Duke's House visited our castle, and through this visit, ‌we hope to deepen the friendship between our two houses, and so on and so forth.
We sincerely hope you have a pleasant journey.
P.S. By the way, when are you going to pay for the hunting rifle you bought on credit in our region using the Duke's House name?
Just in case, I'm sending this letter to the Duchy Residence in the Capital.
It's not that I suspect you won't pay it back!
'Since Sodom and Gomorra are ‌‌‌‌so ‌close, my younger brother must have already arrived in Sodom.'
Sodom and Gomorra.
The names alone are ominous.
After digging through more letters and documents, I reached a conclusion.
"This bastard ‌‌is a gambling addict."
There were traces of gambling debts lost at gambling houses being paid off by a friend or the Duke, and plenty of dunning notices for unpaid debts.
Since he has too many debts at the gambling houses in the Capital and they ‌‌‌won't accept him, it seems he's gone all the way down there for some remote gambling adventure.
Conclusion: This reckless fool just went out to play.
My hopes deflated.
"Good grief, what a pathetic wretch...."
So he went to meet bad men instead of a bad woman?
What was the Duke thinking, making such a fool his heir?
Was Yusara desperately trying to marry Praha because it was obvious the family ‌‌would collapse, and she was trying to escape?
Is that why Praha doesn't want to be engaged to me?
I wouldn't associate with such a family either!
"Sigh."
No, Sara. Think positively.
At least my brother didn't become a zombie.
'Of course, he could have become a zombie at the gambling house....'
"Then why is the Duke acting so strange?"
Why does he behave so oddly?
Is ‌‌he just someone who dislikes sunlight, loves blood, and has a flexible neck?
I searched the room more thoroughly, but nothing else useful turned up.
Just ‌‌in case, I mimicked what Praha had done at the Villa, tapping on the walls here and there, and several times I made eye contact with a grandmother without pupils and let out a startled shriek.
I carefully made my way back out and locked the door.
"Let me go see the Duke." ‌
I extinguished the candle I was holding and walked down the Corridor.
The Study and Prayer Room were on the same floor.
Creak, creak—
The Prayer Room was the ‌‌‌only dilapidated space in this magnificent Mansion.
The thick iron door, which seemed utterly out of place,
had small barred windows both above and ‌‌‌below—the kind you'd find in a prison cell.
They allowed one to observe the person inside through eye-level slits,
or to pass food through the lower opening.
Every time I saw it, the interior left me deeply unsettled.
'...Is this a prison, or what?'
The aesthetics were utterly bleak.
This wasn't a Prayer Room at all—it looked like a ‌‌‌chamber designed for confinement and torment.
According to the Head Maid, there wasn't even a lock on the ‌inside, and the room contained no bed, no chair, nothing.
'If it were me, I'd never set foot in ‌‌‌‌a room that could only be locked from the outside.'
I was muttering to myself, about to knock softly in case the Duke might be awake, when—
"Grrrrgh...."
Thud.
"Grrrrgh...."
Thud.
A sound came from inside.
"Ugh."
Slurp, slurp.
Grrrrgh... Thud.
"...."
I set the candle I'd been holding down on the floor.
I pushed it away carefully so I wouldn't accidentally kick it.
Quietly. Very quietly.
I opened the ‌‌‌‌window covering.
The Prayer Room ‌‌was pitch black—not a single ray of light penetrated it.
A sharp, metallic stench of iron wafted out.
The Duke was crouched over a large wooden barrel, his upper body thrust into it, drinking something. ‌‌‌‌
Each time the Duke withdrew ‌‌‌his face from the barrel, there came a wet thud—thud—as something struck ‌‌‌against it.
The gurgling sounds were coming from the Duke's throat.
He continued to gulp and swallow greedily, making those awful sounds.
Blood matted into his dyed blonde hair.
"...."
My skin crawled.
'Has he become a zombie?'
That's when I heard the Duke muttering ‌‌to himself.
"This can't happen... I have to control it. I must control my appetite...."
"...!"
'You're not ‌‌actually going to eat that, are you?'
'Good grief, that forearm....'
'Just because I ‌give you permission doesn't mean you shove everything in your mouth. You need to exercise some restraint.'
'Don't you dare close that door. You're not hiding in there eating bread behind my ‌‌‌back.'
'This won't do. You need to learn some self-control.'
The memories came crashing down.
'Yusara, go into the Prayer Room.'
'This is the dress you wore when you were fifteen. You cannot leave here until it fits you again.'
'You are my masterpiece. I do all of this because I love you.'
'My daughter, Mother is suffering too....'
"...."
I leaned my swaying body against the door.
"...."
The Duke did not become ‌‌‌a zombie.
That's not what happened.
"...."
The Prayer Room that had appeared hazy moments ago now came into sharp focus.
Because I already knew the layout of this place.
"...."
This was an altar and prayer chamber the Duke had built for the goddess of beauty and marriage.
And.
It was a punishment chamber for his daughter Yusara, who failed to meet the Duke's standards.
I let out a quiet moan.
"Ah."
I remembered everything.
[(Temporary Safe Zone) Mansion Second Floor Punishment Chamber]
- Yusara (Alive)

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