The sharp chime of the doorbell interrupted their conversation. At the same time, a notification pinged from her phone. She snatched it off the table and glanced at the screen. "Your order has arrived," it read.
"Ah. I still have an order of pizzas." Freyah clicked her tongue.
Florence blinked at her, confused. "Pizzas?"
Ignoring him, she walked to the monitor displaying the camera feed outside her gate. Sure enough, a delivery driver stood there, balancing several boxes of pizza in his hands. And in his back, he was carrying a woman who seemed unconscious.
"Help! Please help us!" The delivery man kept screaming outside the gate.
"This," Freyah said as she turned to Florence, "is your first lesson about my world."
Freyah gripped the knife tightly as she opened the door and stepped outside, the metal blade gleaming under the pale light. She sensed Florence trailing closely behind her, his steps light and unhurried.
"Please, help us!" The delivery driver's voice broke through the silence, frantic and raw. He was young—no older than a teenager—his clothes disheveled, his face streaked with sweat and dirt. A woman was slumped over his back, unmoving. "The roads are chaos out there! People are losing their minds, cars crashing… and then this lady just collapsed right in front of me! I can't call 911, and no hospital is answering. Then a car hit my bicycle—I'm stranded!"
Freyah remained calm as she punched in the gate code. The iron gate creaked open, the sound cutting through the boy's panic.
"Come inside," she said evenly.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" The boy stumbled through the gate, his body sagging with relief. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, a low growl rumbled from the woman he carried.
He froze. "It's alright. She's—"
Before he could finish, Freyah moved. In a blur, she yanked the woman off the boy's back and hurled her to the ground with shocking force.
"What—what are you doing?!" the boy stammered, his voice rising. The box of the pizzas he was carrying dropped on the ground.
Freyah didn't answer immediately. She turned to Florence, her knife held low and ready. "Look closely, Your Highness," she said, her voice steady but edged with something sharp. "Our world is heading to doom. A deadly virus spread. And this is what happens to those who can't withstand the infection. You'll see them everywhere soon—wandering the streets, hunting anyone still breathing."
The woman's body twitched violently on the ground. Bone snapped and popped as she began to rise, her movements grotesque and unnatural. Her head lolled to the side, her milky white eyes rolling as red veins pulsed across her pale skin. Patches of blotchy decay spread like ink on paper.
"They're called zombies," Freyah continued, her voice hardening. "Mindless, ravenous undead. They'll tear you apart and leave nothing but bones—or worse, they'll turn you into one of them once you get bitten or digested their blood."
The gate slammed shut with a final clang.
The zombie stood now, swaying unsteadily. Freyah didn't hesitate. She lunged, her knife flashing in the dim light. She ducked under the creature's outstretched claws and sliced clean through its legs. The zombie collapsed, its upper body thrashing as Freyah struck again, severing its arms with ruthless efficiency. It squirmed helplessly, reduced to nothing but a writhing, snarling torso.
The delivery boy staggered back, his face drained of color. "Did—did I just witness a murder?" he whispered, horrified.
Florence remained quiet, watching with an unreadable expression.
Freyah exhaled sharply, pulling a crumpled tissue from her pocket. She wiped the blood from her face, then turned to Florence. "Your Highness, I need you to try something. See if you can heal her—bring her back to a normal state."
Florence arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So this is what you wanted me for?" Without waiting for a reply, he approached the twitching remains.
"Be careful," Freyah warned. "One bite, and it's over."
Florence knelt beside the zombie and extended his hand, hovering just above the decaying body. A faint glow appeared at his fingertips, spreading into a delicate, intricate magic circle. The soft green light pulsed once, twice, then flowed over the zombie's body like a gentle wave.
Silence fell. The delivery boy held his breath, his wide eyes fixed on the scene.
After several long minutes, the light flickered and dimmed. Florence lowered his hand, shaking his head. "She's already dead," he said quietly. "Healing magic doesn't work on the dead."
Freyah nodded, unsurprised. "I see." Without another word, she plunged her knife into the zombie's skull. The blade crunched through bone, and the creature fell still. Freyah withdrew the knife and wiped it clean on her sleeve. "With zombies, you need to destroy the brain. It's the only way to stop them for good."
Florence gave a slight nod. "That's… insightful."
Freyah stood, kicked the motionless corpse toward the gate, and heaved it outside. She followed with the severed limbs, flinging them unceremoniously onto the pavement.
She turned back, her expression oddly bright. "That must've been terrifying for you," she said, her voice suddenly light. She extended her hand toward the delivery boy, who stood trembling. "Why don't we go inside? You must be starving."
The boy didn't move, his entire body shaking. Freyah ignored his panic as the faint glow of a status screen flickered before her eyes.
---
{Name: Harper Johnson
Role: Part-Time Delivery Boy, Junior High School
Skills:
Psychic Skill: Locked.
Physical Skill. Speed Application
Soul Skill: Locked.}
---
A slow grin crept across Freyah's face. A fresh skill... She thought.
"D-don't kill me!" Harper finally managed to scream. He turned and bolted toward the gate, stumbling as he ran. "Help! Somebody—ack!"
His cry was cut short as Freyah appeared behind him and delivered a sharp tap to the back of his neck. Harper collapsed, unconscious, into Freyah's arms.
Florence sighed. "Is hitting people on the nape a hobby of yours?"
"It's easier than dealing with their panics," Freyah replied dryly. She grabbed Harper by the collar, hoisting him over her shoulder like a sack of rice. "Let's go inside. I'll make some food."
She turned toward the house, her bloody knife still gleaming at her side, and smiled—an unsettling, casual smile, as if she hadn't just butchered a corpse in front of them.
"An unpredictable and dangerous beast... If not for the soul contract..."
Florence lingered briefly on the bloodstained ground.
"Right now, she is the only one who can lead me back to my world..."
Then he looked at the door and to his surroundings. To a very different world that he was suddenly thrown into. "Kathleen, one last time, I want to see you again."