In her past life, Flora Bloom had grown accustomed to this sort of thing. But it was only the second day of the apocalypse. ’Have people already started crossing the moral line?’

Suddenly, a gunshot—BANG!—rang out from upstairs. It startled Leigh Atwood and Luna Thorne, who flinched violently, their faces instantly draining of color.

Julie Lane, startled at first, lowered her head and began to tremble uncontrollably.

Flora Bloom smelled the faint scent of blood. It was subtle, but she knew something had happened upstairs. She said to Neal Wallace, "This was my oversight. These people have guns. We have to leave immediately. There’s no time to lose, we go now."

Hearing Flora Bloom’s words, Julie Lane cried out in fear, "Wait, you can’t just leave! Seth sent me to bring you to him. If you leave, he’ll kill me!"

Flora Bloom suddenly let out a cold snort. "If he kills you, what does that have to do with us?"

But Julie Lane just kept trembling, clinging to Flora Bloom’s clothes and refusing to let go.

"Please, that gunshot from upstairs... someone disobeyed and was killed. I really don’t want to die! You, you, just go spend one night with him. Just one night! Once he gets tired of you, you’ll be free!"

A dangerous light glinted in Flora Bloom’s eyes as she looked at Julie Lane.

’In the apocalypse, women without strength end up like this.’ Flora had seen many women attach themselves to a single powerful man, but if anyone dared to get any ideas about her, there would be no room for negotiation.

Flora Bloom gripped her axe, crouching down to get closer to Julie Lane. "Who is staying in the room Seth went to tonight?" she asked.

Julie Lane answered tremblingly, "It’s, it’s a girl named Belle Bloom. I heard... I heard Seth really likes her. It... it was her who recommended you to him. Please, just come with me. You’re not as pretty as her, and you stink so much, maybe Seth will let you go after a little while."

Flora Bloom stood up, her gaze toward Julie Lane now filled with killing intent.

She decided to give the woman one last chance to live. "If I asked you to leave with us, would you be willing?" she asked.

Julie Lane’s eyes suddenly widened, and she shook her head frantically.

"No, no, no, you can’t escape! Seth is a monster, and he has a lot of men. Don’t waste your energy! As long as you come upstairs with me, I promise I’ll look after you here! At least... not too many men will get to... use you. Really."

Hearing the depravity and resignation in Julie Lane’s words, Flora swung her axe in the next instant. A thin red line suddenly appeared on Julie Lane’s neck. The line slowly widened, and blood sprayed from the gaping wound.

The room fell terrifyingly silent. The very air seemed to freeze. Leigh Atwood and Luna Thorne, who had already collapsed to the floor, began to tremble even more violently.

"M-murder... you killed someone... You... you killed her."

Luna Thorne couldn’t control her expression. Her face twitched as she stammered out the words.

Flora Bloom shot the two of them an amused glance.

"She was being coerced, which was somewhat pitiful. But she never should have tried to save her own skin by sacrificing someone else’s innocence."

Flora Bloom continued, her words carrying a pointed meaning, "In the apocalypse, once a woman loses her dignity, she’s no better than trash, useless for anything but men’s pleasure. Living without a soul is worse than being dead."

Flora Bloom looked at Neal Wallace and Ethan Monroe. Though shock flickered across their faces, it quickly subsided, and their expressions returned to normal.

Killing was shocking to them, yes. But in this new world, it might soon become a common sight.

"That woman had already lost her reason to live. She was just going to be trouble, so it’s better that she’s dead."

Flora Bloom was a little surprised that Neal Wallace didn’t have a stronger reaction to seeing her kill someone. Instead, he said something like that, almost as if he were comforting her.

As for Ethan Monroe, he rubbed his large belly, sighed, and said, "Ai, you could say we helped put her out of her misery. Better to die now than to turn into a zombie and bite someone else."

Just then, more gunshots echoed from upstairs. This time, it wasn’t just a few shots. After one or two initial bangs, a continuous volley of gunfire erupted.

Flora Bloom had intended to lead the others away immediately, but now she changed her mind.

She said to Ethan Monroe and Neal Wallace, "Mr. Wallace, you two take them and hide by the emergency exit. Something might be happening upstairs. I’m going to check it out."

Neal Wallace flatly rejected her plan.

"No. You’re coming with us. They have so many people. Going alone is like walking into the lion’s den. Don’t be foolish."

Flora Bloom just smiled. "Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. You guys go wait for me at the emergency exit. I’ll be back soon."

She glanced worriedly at the two women who still hadn’t gotten up, and said with a helpless sigh, "They are my teacher and classmate, after all. Please, look after them for me. I won’t be in danger, don’t worry."

With that, Flora Bloom hefted her axe and led the way out of the room.

The group reached the elevators. Yesterday, several people had been guarding this spot, but now there was no one. It saved them a lot of trouble. After watching the other four enter the emergency stairwell, Flora Bloom pressed the button for the elevator and stepped inside.

「Third floor.」

The moment she stepped out of the elevator, the thick stench of blood assaulted her nostrils. It was foul. And mixed in with the smell of blood was a hint of something she knew all too well—the rotten stink of the undead.

At that moment, she was almost certain: there were zombies on the third floor, and the people here were fighting them.

She crept forward, following the sounds.

Two guest rooms and the lounge on the third floor were wide open. A trail of blood smeared the floor from the guest rooms to the lounge. Flora Bloom checked one of the open rooms and found a body, mauled by zombies beyond recognition, lying silently on the floor. Judging by the clothes, it was one of the students who had escaped the school with them.

Flora Bloom frowned. She had a good idea of what had happened. ’It was probably one of the girls from my room. She must have been scratched by a zombie earlier without anyone noticing, then suddenly turned, causing this tragedy.’

Flora Bloom saw the corpse on the floor twitch. Without hesitation, she brought her axe down, splitting the head—the only part of it still intact—and then headed toward the lounge.

As she walked through the third floor, she found it strange. According to Neal Wallace, each floor was supposed to be heavily guarded, so why hadn’t she seen a single person on her way here?

And based on the sounds coming from the lounge, there couldn’t be more than ten people inside.

She stood outside the lounge, peering in from the side.

The battle inside was already winding down. Having guns certainly made a difference; a spray of bullets was bound to hit a few heads. ’Still, their aim is really terrible.’

Looking at the dozen or so corpses on the floor, their bodies riddled with holes like sieves, she couldn’t help but think about how many bullets they had wasted.

’These idiots. The zombies at the start of the apocalypse aren’t even that tough. Killing them with melee weapons is good practice. Firearms are useful, but bullets are a finite resource.’

’The factories that produce these military supplies will be forced to shut down soon, and production won’t resume for a very long time. It won’t be until long after the bases are established that anyone will get them organized again.’

’For now, they’re just consumables. Every bullet fired is one less they’ll have.’

Inside the lounge, only seven people were left standing.

A blond-haired man and a muscular guy were crouching down, clearing the battlefield. Oscar Owen was leaning coldly against a wall, not saying a word. Scott, the P.E. committee member, was shaking like a leaf, while Belle Bloom was nestled pitifully in the arms of a tall man, acting like a delicate bird.

And that tall man had to be the one Julie Lane mentioned—Seth. He was the leader of this group, a man who had been in the criminal underworld before the apocalypse.