Liora had everything, silk gowns softer than clouds, and eleven royal brothers who treated her like a jewel. Her days were filled with naps and banquets, her biggest worry being whether sapphire blue matched better with her crown than royal gold.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

One night, she fell asleep in her warm bed with wine in her hand. The next, she woke up in a nightmare. A world ravaged by zombies. Smoke and ash filled the air. The ground was stained with blood. Her palace? Gone. Her servants? Gone. Her status? Worthless.

The only thing that remained? Her will to survive.

With no training, no supplies, and no clue how to swing a weapon, she was thrown straight into the depths of hell, until a cold mechanical voice echoed in her mind.

[Welcome, Host. You have activated the Overlord System.]

It sounded powerful, promising... until she learned the truth. She had no abilities, no resources, and a system that cared more about giving her impossible missions and drowning her in cosmic debt than helping her stay alive.

While others awakened fire or telekinesis, she was stuck dodging Level 2 zombies with nothing but her fists and pure desperation. Every fight was a gamble. Every step forward cost blood, sweat, or worse—sanity.

Yet she rose. She built her own base from scratch. Controlled supplies. Built a black market network in the ruins. People started to follow her, fear her, and even rely on her.

And then he showed up.

The aloof, deadly awakened one who never cared for others—until her. With piercing eyes and unmatched power, he could destroy armies. But when he tried to get close, to protect her, to understand her, Liora was too busy reinforcing her walls and negotiating food rations to entertain his brooding charm.

He said he wanted to fight beside her. She said, "Unless you're here to dig trenches or clear zombies, move aside."

He brought her rare supplies—medicine, clean water, even a working generator.

She didn’t blink. "Bribing me with electricity? Cute. Now get in line with the others if you want shelter."

Because in this world, there was no room for love when survival was still uncertain.

But love, like the undead, is persistent.

Trigger Warning: Violence, Gore, System Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Romantic Tension.

The cold, sterile smell of disinfectant hit Liora the moment she reappeared.


Her boots scraped against the polished hospital floor as her body wobbled forward, barely catching herself in time. The dim fluorescent lights flickered above, and the familiar cracked wall in front of her confirmed that she was back.


Back in the same exact place where she had vanished.


The air still felt stiff with danger. And when she turned her head, her eyes widened. A Level 4 zombie, its gaping jaw unhinged mid-lunge, was still suspended in motion, just inches from where she had stood before disappearing.


The moment she stepped to the side, the zombie snapped forward—but before it could even land, two of her shadows surged up like liquid spears and tore it to shreds. 


Chapter 138 - Chapter 138: Older brother, my foot!