Rosalia — POV
Cassel shot me a warning look.
A single glance—sharp, cold, and commanding enough to stop a heart.
He must have sensed it… that flicker of murderous intent I could no longer suppress.
Well, I'm no professional killer. I don't know how to hide my hatred or bury it behind a polite smile. Acting has never been one of my strengths.
From the moment I laid eyes on Cassel's father and his half-brother, my facade shattered. Every ounce of contempt, every shard of loathing—I let it show.
They were the reason Cassel suffered. The reason he'd lived a life of misery, both before and after the world ended.
Because of them, Cassel endured torment.
Because of them, he died alone.
Because of them, his mother's love was ripped away—and he grew up in the cold shadow of that loss.
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, stinging.
The rims burned crimson.
A wave of grief hit me so hard it nearly took my breath. Beneath it, a storm of hatred churned—hot, consuming, unfair.
Why are you looking at me like that, Cassel?
I'm the one who loves you most. The one who would burn, bleed, and die for you.
So why… why do you look at me with those warning eyes, as if I'm the threat?
Are you protecting them from me?
Do you even know what they've done?
They stole everything from you. And one day, they'll take your life too.
Do you know how it felt every time you fell for their schemes? Every time you stumbled deeper into despair?
Do you know that I fell with you?
Deeper… and deeper…
Do you know what it was like—watching you die by their hands?
You don't know anything.
A single tear escaped. It burned down my cheek like acid.
The pain was unbearable—raw, searing.
"Ah, Rosalia, why are you crying?" Liz's voice trembled with concern. Her hands, rough and scarred from years of handling weapons, brushed away my tears. "Don't cry, Rosalia. Are you afraid of the commander's stare?"
"Hey, Boss, look! You've made the girl cry! What's with that look? Even I got goosebumps!"
Cassel's eyes flicked toward Liz—just once.
That single look silenced her instantly.
Then his gaze returned to me… lingered for two eternal seconds… before turning away.
As if that sharp, cutting glare a moment ago had been nothing more than a mirage.
"I'm telling you, Cassel," the old man said—a figure of authority with fading black hair streaked with gray, gripping his blond son's hand, "you and your team must get us to City B before nightfall."
His tone dripped superiority. He spoke not to a son—but to a slave.
That disgusting old man…
He'd married Cassel's mother for her fortune, for her family's power. When he'd drained every drop of benefit from her bloodline, he'd taken a mistress—the woman he'd truly loved since college.
To him, Cassel's mother was nothing but a rung on his ladder to wealth.
He climbed from being a lowly part-time tutor to one of the richest men on Forbes' list.
But he was a fool—too stupid even to manage what he stole. Cassel's mother had been the real backbone of their empire. After her "illness" and death, everything crumbled. The once-richest family in the country nearly fell to ruin… until Cassel rose and rebuilt it in three short years.
If only he knew the truth—that his mother hadn't been ill at all.
That she'd been murdered.
Would he have walked away from these bloodsuckers sooner?
Would he have escaped his destined destruction?
While I was drowning in these thoughts, Cassel stood there—unmoving, silent, carved in stone—as his father scolded him. The coldness in his posture only made my chest ache more.
I turned away before I did something reckless. Because if I didn't… I might actually strangle that old man.
"Hey, girl, wha—"
"Ah?"
"You again."
Henry's voice slid into my ear like a lazy whisper. He was standing too close again.
"You're such a rude fox."
"Thanks for the compliment."
He grinned, wide and satisfied. His narrow eyes gleamed with mischief. If only I could see them filled with tears instead.
"My dear, you never told me—what's your major? Since you're from Ghoul University, you must be rich or brilliant, right?"
I studied him for a moment, arching a brow. "And why can't I be both?"
Henry's gaze dropped slowly—from my eyes, down to my feet. Insolent. Deliberate. Then he laughed—a low, teasing laugh that made my blood boil.
"You—!"
"Hey, Henry! Stop teasing Rosalia," Liz barked.
"Hahaha! Sorry, sorry. I just can't help it. You're too fun to mess with, girl. How old are you anyway? Got a boyfriend? Want one?"
"You—!" My face flamed red—that damn fox.
I didn't notice the fleeting stiffness in Liz's smile, the worry hidden behind her calm expression. She masked it quickly, returning to her soft, almost angelic composure.
"Vice Commander," Frederick called, his voice clipped and serious now. "We've cleared most of the road, but it's getting dark. Should we continue driving at night?"
His eyes flicked toward the black SUV where Cassel stood.
He clicked his tongue under his breath. "Tch… damn scum."
Henry pretended not to hear, though his jaw tightened. "We'll wait for the commander's orders," he said, tone now solemn. "He'll probably tell us to find shelter and move at dawn. Zombies at night are faster, stronger, smarter… We can't win against that kind of darkness."
At least this fox had a brain.
"Looks like the old man's tantrum finally ended," Henry muttered, nodding toward Cassel, who was now walking toward us as the SUV's windows rolled back up.
Inside, the father and son duo were no doubt complaining about how "uncomfortable" the car was—too scared to step outside. The hypocrisy made my skin crawl.
"Commander!"
Henry, Liz, and Frederick spoke in unison.
"Mmm."
Cassel gave a brief hum, acknowledging them before stepping aside with Henry to confer quietly.
Liz hurried to assist Robin and the others, scanning for wounds—because even the smallest injury could mean death in this world.
And me? I stood frozen.
No orders. No direction. Just… stillness.
My mind wandered again—to Cassel's fate.
How could I save him? How could I rewrite the ending, keep him from becoming the final boss, from dying the villain's death the story had already written for him?
But then—something tugged at the edge of my mind.
Something was wrong.
Something I'd forgotten.
It sat there, just out of reach—like a word on the tip of my tongue, a scream stuck in my throat.
What was it?
A strange dread tightened my chest.
An invisible warning.
Like the silence before a storm.
And then—
BANG!
The gunshot shattered the air.
Another.
BANG. BANG. BAAANG!
The echoes ripped through the ruins.
From a distance, figures appeared—blurry at first, then distinct.
Running.
They burst from a narrow alley, stumbling toward us. When they spotted Cassel's vehicles, they veered in our direction, desperation painted across their faces.
Behind them… came the horde.
Zombies.
Dozens—no, hundreds.
Growling. Roaring.
The ground itself seemed to tremble beneath the weight of them.
The scene unfolded like a nightmare from a horror movie—too vivid, too close.
And as with every horror story, there was always a heroine.
She was easy to spot—dressed in pure white, her black boots kicking up dust, her long dark hair flying wildly behind her. She looked almost holy, a fragile beam of light fleeing through a world of decay.
A young man dragged her by the hand, firing a pistol with shaky hands. His aim was atrocious—he even shot one of his own comrades by mistake—but no one had time to care.
Because death… was only a few steps behind them.
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From your erato-san:
Hope you like this book.
And please lwt your review, if possible.
See u in another chapter.
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