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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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A Corporate Slave Becomes a Villainous Nuisance in a Zombie Apocalypse
Episode 74
Chapter 10. RUN HIDE FIGHT
I earn my own money and feed and clothe myself with my own strength.
That's what it means to be a corporate worker.
As someone who participates in society, I possess at least basic social awareness.
'If you can't distinguish whether a boss pretending to be a kind senior is genuinely a good person or just hitting on you, you'll regret it later....'
Of course, Praha is qualitatively different from those sinister types—he's genuinely a good person.
Regardless, from my perspective as ‌‌‌‌someone with 'awareness', Praha's current demeanor is.
'Favorable.'
...Why?
What did I even do?
'No, Yusara. Don't get ahead of yourself.'
He might simply be the type who treats his own people exceptionally well.
You don't know how Praha behaves toward his 'colleagues'. You've never been one of Praha's colleagues.
Besides, this isn't the time for such thoughts.
And I.
'Am someone who will return to Earth anyway.'
I bit the inside of my cheek slightly and regained my composure.
I looked around my surroundings.
The prison I had emerged into was far longer than I had anticipated.
Inside cells packed as tightly as a chicken coop, zombies wandered in groups of two or three.
Clouded eyes. Behind them, corpses that had failed to even become zombies, scattered across the floor. ‌‌Bloodstains shaped like handprints on the iron bars, fragments of flesh rolling across the ground. Body fluids splattered on the walls.
In the cell directly ‌‌‌adjacent to the prison from which Praha and I had escaped, ‌‌I saw a zombie with blood smeared around its mouth.
It wore simple, durable clothing and had wrappings around its knees.
The zombie that sensed me extended its arm.
"...Ugh...."
I turned away from the Unlucky Adventurer, whose face I was now seeing for the first time.
I pressed ‌‌myself against the opposite wall as much as possible, trying ‌‌not to direct my gaze toward the side ‌‌where the cells lined up.
"Walk on the inside. I will stand on the outside."
Praha spoke as he struck away the arm of a zombie attempting to seize my elbow.
As his voice became audible, the zombies began to thrash about even more violently.
Clang, clang, clang....
"Urrgh...."
The maximum noise those without tongues could produce.
Tongueless zombies extending their arms toward us in the dim prison.
A child who appeared to be about five years old, an elderly woman, a woman around my age....
Praha also did not spare them a glance, but I understood what he must be feeling right now.
Even though he said he wouldn't ‌‌‌concern himself with it, he would surely feel guilt.
I gently grasped Praha's elbow as he stared ahead with a ‌‌stoic expression.
I offered Praha a smile as he ‌‌‌glanced back at me.
"Just like that."
I ‌‌‌pointed at the torch on the wall that had nearly singed my hair moments ago, asking if removing it would help us see better as we made our escape.
Praha nodded and detached it from the wall with one hand.
"Please, let me carry it."
"I'll carry it."
"If we're to escape this place, Your Highness, it's better that your hands remain free rather than mine."
"...Very well. Tell me at once if it becomes too much."
"Yes."
Whenever Praha's ‌‌gaze drifted toward the zombies, I tugged at his elbow and spoke to keep his attention.
And so we arrived at the Staircase.
The ‌‌‌‌door leading outside was unlocked.
That dwarf Thug Guard must ‌‌‌have forgotten to lock it in his angry ‌‌‌haste to leave, ‌or perhaps he simply had no key to begin with.
Creak.
"Urrgh!"
The moment we stepped through the door, we came face to face with a zombie wandering the Corridor.
It turned toward us as ‌‌‌‌if it had heard the door open with supernatural precision.
Before I could even speak, Praha seized the zombie's neck with his bare hands and snapped it.
Thud.
Praha brushed off his hands lightly, then glanced at me with an apologetic expression.
"I had no weapon."
"...."
Your ‌entire body is a weapon, though....
"You'll be seeing quite a bit of blood. Are you certain you can manage?"
"I'm fine. I see it once a month anyway."
"...."
The torch we'd taken proved unnecessary—the Corridor was already bright. Lights hung at intervals along the walls, illuminating our surroundings clearly. There were no windows, however.
"So this is indeed the Underground."
"The Mansion appeared modest from the outside, but I cannot say what the Underground levels might hold."
"How many floors down are we, do you think?"
"Likely two levels."
"How can you be ‌‌certain?"
"When they dragged me down earlier, I counted my steps and observed the ceiling ‌‌height to estimate."
"I see."
"We need only ascend two more levels and find the exit."
Praha explained as he rifled ‌‌through the zombie's belongings—finding little of use—that he had just killed.
"There will likely be several magical security devices along ‌‌‌the way to the exit."
His words naturally brought to mind the memory of finding the Portal entrance through the Head Chef's head in the Villa Kitchen.
"Will we need to be recognized by facial features or fingerprints to leave this time as ‌‌‌‌well?"
"It's possible, or it may not be."
"Hmm."
One mountain after another.
Fortunately, reaching Basement Level 1 had been straightforward.
There weren't many wandering zombies, and I was able to wash my hands and face briefly at the washbasins lining the Corridor, even ‌‌drink some water.
I extinguished the torch I'd been carrying and set it down carelessly somewhere.
The locked door leading to ‌‌Basement Level 1 was handled by Praha.
How, you ask?
"Well."
Let's just say I witnessed firsthand the sheer force a human body honed to its absolute limits could unleash.
"This appears to be the floor where they primarily reside."
Praha spoke while ‌‌‌still catching the scent of meat lingering in the air.
Indeed, the entire floor was permeated with the aroma of warm soup.
The scent ‌‌‌of meat, pepper, cream, mushrooms.
Those fools, oblivious to what flesh they were boiling, cackling away. They gorged themselves like pigs before becoming zombies.
'They say humans are more terrifying than zombies.'
Honestly, they brought it upon themselves.
Should I feel sorry for them?
"They must have all turned while eating together. So ‌‌‌they'd be gathered in one ‌place."
"That's ‌‌‌my assessment as well."
"Then we avoid that room."
I pointed to the largest ‌‌door visible ahead.
Praha moved swiftly, dragging a chair from the Corridor to block the door. Then he pressed his cheek against it, remained still for a moment, and turned back to me.
"I smell human scent from inside."
"You can sense that?"
"Yes."
"...."
Dog nose....
"Should ‌‌‌‌we explore elsewhere first?"
"That ‌would be preferable."
The problem was that there was no Staircase leading upward anywhere ‌‌‌‌on this floor.
"...In the end, we'll have to open that ‌door...."
After searching for the Staircase through torture ‌chambers, corpse disposal rooms, and every conceivable location, I spoke with ‌‌‌‌a pale face. Praha beside me nodded calmly.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes...."
Whether they were originally a reddish-brown or had been stained that color by blood, I couldn't tell—but having passed through ‌several such rooms, my stomach felt unsettled. ‌‌‌
What in the world were those coffins with dozens of sharp blades protruding from inside their lids ‌‌used for?
"If I had my way, I'd slit the ‌‌‌throats of every zombie and everything else...."
I stared coldly at the large room, our final option.
They wouldn't be swarming right at the doorway, would they?
"Should we crack it open slightly and close it again if things look bad?"
At my inadvertently revealed weakness, Praha's lips curved upward in a smirk. I found myself staring blankly at ‌‌his full lips, so prominent even beneath the grime, before turning my head away.
Praha spoke.
"I will open the door and signal ‌‌‌you. If I wave my fingers together, advance. If I clench my fist, remain where you are."
"Understood."
Just in case, ‌‌‌‌Praha pushed a chair in front of me ‌‌‌‌and instructed me to stand behind it, then carefully opened the door.
First only his ‌‌‌face appeared, then his upper body, and finally his entire form slipped through the doorway.
I furrowed my brow and concentrated, terrified I might misread his signal.
Soon, through the silently reopened door, an unmistakably handsome hand emerged.
Fingers spread.
'Advance.'
I held the door with one hand to keep it silent and quickly moved behind Praha. I tried to peer into the room over his shoulder, but when that proved impossible, I wedged my face between his side and the doorframe.
"...."
"...gasp...."
The room was far larger than I'd anticipated.
Across the spacious chamber—littered with what appeared to be salvaged cheap sofas, a billiards table, and various tables—a stale, musty stench permeated everything.
On the walls hung a crude painting of a nude woman with darts embedded in her face, while dirty food plates and beer glasses scattered across the floor.
Even a ship that had drifted at sea for months would seem cleaner than this.
Behind an overturned sofa in the center, I could make out zombies.
Their backs to us, heads bowed....
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
"...."
"...."
They were consuming what had once been their own comrade.
A severed hand sprawled across the floor twitched.
Praha ‌‌‌gently covered my mouth—to prevent my shock from becoming a scream—and gestured with his eyes toward the opposite wall.
There was another door.
Praha mouthed words silently.
'It would be best to remove your shoes.'
'Understood.'
Even if he'd told me to crawl, I would have done so without hesitation.
My adventurer's boots—perfect for traversing rough mountains and difficult terrain, but with rigid soles that would make noise against the floor—I held one in each hand.
I alternated my gaze between the pushed-back carpet, the exposed wooden floor beneath, its glossy grain, the broken dishes and spilled alcohol scattered across it, and my thick wool socks.
'I'll go first.'
'Understood.'
Praha moved ahead of me, quietly sweeping aside broken ‌‌‌glasses ‌‌‌‌and dishes from my path as he walked.
Following Praha, I too moved silently, carefully....
"Grrgh...."
Crunch crunch.
"...."
"Ughh...."
Crunch.
"...."
I'd be better off just running and escaping....
At any moment, I felt the zombies would detect the scent of living flesh emanating from my body and slowly turn their heads to stare at me.
My blood ran cold.
If they swarmed ‌‌‌me here, even Praha wouldn't be able to help.
'And I don't even have a weapon right now.'
Tension caused saliva to pool involuntarily in my mouth.
I couldn't even swallow for fear the sound would give me away. ‌‌
Suppressing the urge to scream and bolt ‌‌‌from the room, I moved my feet ‌‌‌with utmost caution.
'Why is the floor so slippery?'
If I mistepped and made a creaking sound, or slipped on something, I'd be done for.
That's when it happened.
"Grrrrk...."
My eyes locked directly with a zombie surveying the room.
"...."
"...."
Only ‌‌‌after the confused zombie turned its head away could I remember that zombies had no vision.
'Phew.'
This would be the ‌‌perfect moment to let out a long sigh of relief, but I couldn't make a sound.
This is insane.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing at all.'
I shook my head at Praha, who had paused ahead and turned back to look at me, signaling that nothing was ‌‌‌amiss, and took another step forward.
"...!"
And ‌‌‌I stepped on a piece of broken pottery that Praha hadn't managed to clear away.
[Prome Mountain: Basement Level 1 Recreation Room]
- Yusara, Praha (Alive)

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Brought to you by ‌Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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