The Only Woman in a Zombie Apocalypse – Vol. 2 Chapter 71 – A Complicated Heart Loses Its Way (1)

Author: Nikss

“I came because I have something to tell you today. I have to leave soon.”

“You’re leaving? Why? Your body is perfectly fine. Can’t you go back in?”

“Do you want to live with me?”

“No, I have to return to my own place.”

“Where is your place?”

“Well. Outside the novel. The place where I originally was.”

At Dayoung’s words, the Dayoung inside the novel gave a meaningful smile. Maybe because she had lived in that body for nearly two months, it felt like looking into a mirror.

“After meeting you last time, I noticed a lot of strange things, so I found out a lot. But before that, I’ll show you the memories of mine that I haven’t fully recovered yet.”

“What?”

Dayoung panicked at the words of Dayoung inside the novel.

What on earth was she talking about? There were still memories she hadn’t found?

The moment it felt like someone had struck her head, Dayoung clutched her head and collapsed.

“Ugh!”

The eyes of Dayoung inside the novel, as she looked at him, were cold.

Dayoung breathed heavily and checked the memories of Dayoung inside the novel.

Just what kind of memories were making it this painful?

The memories of Dayoung inside the novel played naturally in her mind. The memories began about eight months after she was captured by the group of soldiers.

🫧

Dayoung spread her legs meaninglessly again today and accepted them.

How long would she have to live like this? Should she be grateful just for not being outside where the zombies were swarming?

That day was the same as always.

From the crack of dawn, she accepted the group’s leader as he climbed on top of her, letting out moans even though it didn’t feel good—just another ordinary day.

Time passed slowly, so slowly, and only after the act was over did time flow quickly. She roughly fixed her clothes and went out to prepare breakfast.

After feeding the group and enduring their sexual harassment, her morning routine was done.

As time passed, she would prepare lunch again, feed them, and get harassed again.

Still, today, the leader didn’t like the items the group had brought back. She was thankful, at least, that she didn’t have to sleep with anyone else.

Not long after they left for another search, a woman came to the gymnasium.

Even though Dayoung looked at her face, the woman’s face was not visible. It was as if it had been blurred.

“Hands up.”

Faced with the gun barrel thrust at her again, Dayoung raised her hands while trembling.

Seeing her like that, the woman lowered the gun and checked Dayoung’s complexion. Clothes that exposed her flesh blatantly, and bruises all over her body.

The woman sighed and asked.

“Where are the others?”

“Inside there.”

“Bring them out.”

“…”

The woman’s voice cracked like a whip.

Dayoung’s knees nearly buckled as she staggered inside, every footstep an earthquake in her bones. She grabbed the leader’s sleeve and yanked—he burst out snarling, then froze.

One look at the black-clad figure and the blood drained from his face so fast his scars went white.

Who the hell was she? What kind of name could turn a monster into a statue?

“Loyalty! Corporal Lee. Dong. Woo!”

His salute snapped so hard it echoed.

“Loyalty. Lieutenant Kim Dayoung, Special Forces Alpha Team commander. You’ve been squatting here?”

“Yes, ma’am! Holding the line with a few soldiers and civilians!”

The name slammed into Dayoung’s skull like a bullet.

Kim Dayoung. Her name. But spoken with iron, not whispered through split lips. The leader was still babbling when the radio hissed alive.

―Captain, where the hell are you?

“Found soldiers. One civilian female. Extracting now.”

―Move your ass.

The radio clicked dead.

Silence fell heavier than lead.

The lieutenant’s eyes, cold black glass, pinned the leader to the wall without a single blink.

“How long?”

“Five months, ma’am!” His voice cracked like a child’s.

“Rest of your squad?”

“Out on recon!”

Dayoung’s pulse thundered in her ears, drowning every word.

“ETA?”

“Two hours, tops!”

“1800 hours. Full evac to nearest base. Anyone not ready gets left for the dead. Clear?”

“Crystal!”

He saluted again and bolted. Crates slammed, zippers screamed, and metal clattered like gunfire.

Dayoung drifted after him on legs that weren’t hers.

“Fuck. Fuck. A lieutenant? Now? Right fucking now?”

He was ripping shelves apart when he saw her stuffing her rag bundle. His stare turned feral.

“Brig. Court-martial. Firing squad, maybe.”

A laugh strangled in his throat.

“Whole world ends, and they still send the reaper.”

His eyes slid to her throat, lingered, then flicked up. Something dark and liquid bloomed behind them.

“Hey.”

The single syllable hit her like a fist.

“Y-yes…?”

“You wanna keep breathing?”

Before the question finished, cold steel kissed her temple, the pistol muzzle grinding into skin.

“Listen closely. One wrong twitch and your brains paint the wall. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded. The barrel scraped a raw circle.

“Good girl.”

He snatched a paper cup, water sloshed, white powder cascaded in like snow over a grave. The same powder that had drowned her screams the first night she fought.

“Lieutenant bitch thinks rank still means shit. Strip the gun, she’s just meat in a costume.”

He shoved the cup into her shaking hands. Liquid trembled, threatening to spill.

“Take this. Get her to drink every drop. One sip short, and I start with your kneecaps. Clear?”

Dayoung stared at the cup. The powder dissolved into ghostly spirals.

“Huh?” Her voice was a corpse’s whisper.

The hammer clicked back. One pound of pressure away from oblivion.

“Clock’s ticking, princess. Two hours till her team comes back armed to the teeth. You pick—her life… or yours.”

He leaned in until his breath scorched her ear, voice dropping to a venomous thread.

“And if you even think about warning her, I’ll make sure you beg for the zombies before I’m done.”

The pistol pressed harder, bruising bone.

“Move. Now.”

Dayoung’s fingers closed around the cup. The poison inside sloshed like a death knell.

One heartbeat. Two.

She turned toward the door—toward the other Kim Dayoung waiting in the corridor, rifle slung low, blurred face tilting in faint curiosity.

Ten steps.

Nine.

Eight.

The floor creaked beneath her bare feet like a gallows trapdoor.

Seven.

Six.

Five—

The lieutenant’s radio crackled again, louder this time, slicing the air like a blade.

―Alpha Actual, report. We’ve got movement on the perimeter. Armed hostiles inbound. ETA ninety seconds.

The woman’s head snapped up, boots already shifting into a firing stance.

Dayoung froze, cup trembling, poison kissing the rim.

Ninety seconds until soldiers flooded in.

Ninety seconds until the leader’s finger decided whose skull cracked first. Ninety seconds until one Kim Dayoung had to kill the other—or die screaming.

The door loomed.

The gun at her back burned colder than ice.

And the clock in her head screamed:

Tick.

“Feed it to her. Put her lights out. Do it, and you walk away breathing. Think about it—one fresh bitch in the pen and the rest of the dogs forget you even exist.”

The paper cup rattled against Dayoung’s teeth, water slopping over the rim, ice-cold down her wrist. She gripped it until the cardboard buckled.

If this woman stayed, maybe the nightly parade would finally march past her door. Maybe they’d gorge on new meat and toss her the scraps of mercy.

She forced her legs forward.

Each bare foot stuck to the filthy floor—dried blood, semen, despair—then peeled free with a wet kiss.

The leader flattened himself to the ground like a lizard, cheek pressed to concrete, one eye glinting through the crack beneath the door.

Dayoung’s throat tasted of rust.

“Y-you must be tired… at least have water.”

The lieutenant’s blurred face tilted.

A soft scoff.

“Fine.”

She snatched the cup, threw it back in three violent gulps—throat working, Adam’s apple dancing under sun-baked skin—and shoved the empty vessel back into Dayoung’s trembling fingers.

A single drop clung to her lower lip, trembling, poison-sweet.

“Thank you.”

The words were barely out when her knees buckled.

Thud—

Skull met concrete with a sickening crack, a sound like splitting melon.

The leader surged up, grin splitting his face ear to ear, teeth yellow and sharp. He pounced, ripping the radio from her belt—plastic snapped, wires tore.

Pistol clattered away. Rifle followed, metal screeching across the floor.

“Drown these.”

Dayoung plunged them into the bucket.

Water swallowed steel with greedy gulps, bubbles hissing like angry snakes.

He slung the woman over his shoulder—limbs dangling, boots knocking together—and stomped inside. The mattress screamed as he flung her down—springs stabbed through torn fabric, dust exploding in a choking cloud.

Buttons pinged off walls. Jacket peeled away.

Sun-scorched arms, milk-pale torso, scars like lightning frozen mid-strike. The air filled with the sour stink of fresh sweat and old blood.

He fumbled with her belt—metal tongue clinked—

A flash of silver.

The combat knife buried itself in his shoulder with a wet crunch, blade grating bone.

“Arrgh! Fucking die!”

He roared, spittle flying. She twisted the knife deeper, drug-heavy eyelids fluttering, teeth bared in a snarl that belonged to a wolf, not a soldier.

Their eyes locked across the room.

Dayoung’s heart stopped.

Why are you looking at me like I’m the one gutting you?

Like I’m the monster? I’m the one who could be dead in the next breath—why is pity dripping out of your eyes while your blood soaks the floor???

Fury detonated behind her ribs, white-hot.

BANG—

The gunshot punched a hole through the universe.

A red pinprick bloomed dead-center above the lieutenant’s eyebrow.

Blood jetted—thick, black in the dim light—cascading over the pitying eye, sealing it shut forever.

Dayoung’s legs dissolved. She hit the ground hard enough to rattle teeth, air whooshing from her lungs in a soundless scream.

“Ah… ah—?”

“That crazy cunt just signed her own death warrant!”

The leader’s voice cracked, high with pain and glee. Blood poured between the fingers clamped to his shoulder, pattering onto the lieutenant’s still chest like rain on tin.

“Quit gawking! Knife—med kit—NOW!”

The dead woman’s remaining eye stayed open.

Glassy. Accusing. Staring straight into Dayoung’s soul.

Dayoung crawled. Nails splintered on concrete. The med kit scraped across the floor like a dying animal.

Every inch smelled of gunpowder, blood, and the lieutenant’s last breath—metallic, warm, final. Her fingers brushed the lieutenant’s boot.

Still warm.

Still wrong.

And somewhere outside, ninety seconds had already started bleeding away.

Dayoung shoved the med kit into the leader’s blood-slick hands and whipped around to the corpse.

The blur was gone.

For the first time, the dead woman’s face snapped into perfect, knife-sharp focus.

Not a stunning beauty, but delicate, symmetrical—like someone had carved her from porcelain and then smashed the mold.

Dayoung’s stomach lurched.

That face was hers. Exact same cheekbones. Same eyes now staring blindly at the ceiling, one still leaking crimson.

“What the hell?? She looks exactly like me!”

“Of course she does. Because that’s you.”

“What…?”

“You. The woman I just forced you to murder was you.”

“Are you fucking insane?! What kind of bullshit is that?!”

Dayoung wanted to claw the novel-Dayoung’s throat out, rip that lying tongue from its roots.

Rage boiled so hot her vision pulsed red.

Truth, lie, dream—everything was melting into nightmare soup. Maybe her exhausted body had finally snapped and conjured this whole rotting circus.

“After we talked last time, I went everywhere. Deep space. The world you claimed you lived in. Your world was peaceful, yeah. Hard to swallow that this is the real one, huh?”

“What are you even saying? My world?”

“You still think this place is just some book?”

“Stop circling and spit it out straight!”

Dayoung was screaming inside.

Nothing made sense. If this weren’t a novel, then who was the soldier bleeding out on the floor?

“Honestly, I’m a little pisse,d too. All I wanted was to survive this shithole world. Remember what I told you? In the story you read, I actually lasted pretty long. Then a glitch happened. Fate derailed. Instead of flowing the way it was supposed to, I killed you. Guess God didn’t like that edit.”

“Speak human!”

“I killed you, so I died. That’s what I’m saying. I was yanked out of a story I was never meant to leave, and I dropped dead of a heart attack the same day you crawled into my skin.”

“Then… what about me? You said I died! If I were dead, how the hell did I end up in your body? That doesn’t add up!”

What kind of deranged garbage was this? She killed me, so novel-me died, and then… who the fuck am I? What were my twenty-four years?

“Your twenty-four years were exactly one week here. One single week. By divine decree, you drifted through other worlds and came home. Into my body. Into your world.”

“That’s insane. That’s not even a story, that’s gibberish! Are you telling me the twenty-four years I lived were fake? My memories? The novel I read? None of it holds together!”

“Don’t forget. That’s the gift God gave you. The privilege of remembering your old world. Looks like the Almighty’s got a soft spot just for you.”

The novel-Dayoung sneered, voice dripping acid.

That face Dayoung once thought cute, radiant, perfect—today it looked twisted, ugly, wrong. Her fists clenched so hard the knuckles cracked like ice breaking.

Just one punch. One solid punch across that smug mouth—would anyone really blame her?

“Why you? What made you so goddamn pitiable in His eyes? What made Him desperate to keep you breathing, even if it meant slaughtering me? Was it the way you pitied me while you were dying? That noble soldier’s oath to protect the citizens? Tell me—what single fucking thing about you melted the heart of God? I saw Earth from orbit. Smaller than my fist. Pathetic blue marble. And right then it clicked.”

“…”

“This tiny country wouldn’t fall as long as you existed. Not me—soldier Kim Dayoung. You. Got it? This world isn’t a novel, but if it were, my entire life—Kim Dayoung, the person I was—would’ve been nothing but a nameless extra.”

“What a load of self-pitying horseshit. Novel or not, you’re the one who decided you were just an extra. You did that to yourself. You hear me?”

“Yeah… I guess I did…”