"...."
After the two left, Zeroy sat back down on the edge of the bed, then lifted the hem of her military uniform skirt, revealing her fair, enticing abdomen, her skin giving off a soft sheen in the dim light.
She reached out to touch it, a troubled expression on her face, her slender fingers gently kneading the soft flesh of her belly.
It had originally been flat, but now it was slightly swollen… this was the source of her discomfort.
She had eaten too much, and now she was feeling it.
Next time, she couldn't force herself to eat so much...
After rubbing her stomach for a while, Zeroy returned to the matter Saeko Busujima had interrupted earlier.
The management of the base... When Saeko appeared, she had immediately thought of the main cast.
In this world, she was unfamiliar with almost everyone, making it hard to choose a qualified leader to take her place.
The main cast was the only exception.
She didn't know the others, but at least she knew them.
However, while each member had their strengths, none truly possessed the ability to manage a survivor base.
Even the most reliable—Saeko Busujima—was still unfit for such a heavy responsibility.
Perhaps Saya Takagi's parents could?
In the anime, they had built a survivor base, where the main cast had stayed briefly to rest.
But with only a moment's thought, Zeroy dismissed them.
The reason the main cast didn't stay was because that base didn't last long before it was overrun.
Though the fall was due to an unexpected EMP attack that disabled much of their equipment, giving the zombie horde a chance to strike…
Zeroy vaguely remembered that the environment within Saya's parents' base could only be described as terrible.
Simply put, Saya's father, Souichiro Takagi, was too soft.
He had allowed a group of zombie-sympathizing saints to grow and spread among the survivors, even letting them openly speak and plot to overthrow him.
Even without sudden accidents, that base's collapse was only a matter of time.
Souichiro Takagi had not managed it well at all.
He lacked the ability, the resolve, and the decisiveness needed.
...
The seventh day after Zeroy came to this world—
[Title Acquired: Headhunter
‣ Requirement: Solo-decapitate one million humanoid beings
‣ Effect: Naturally intimidates humanoid beings, making them more prone to fear.
‣ "Fool, hand over your head!"]
"Phew..."
Lopping off the final head, Zeroy exhaled and sat down against a wall.
Her body wasn't tired, but she still felt exhausted—this was fatigue of the mind and spirit.
After all, cutting down a million heads was a number even she found hard to believe… These past few days, she had done almost nothing but decapitate.
Aside from returning to the base once a day for a meal and checking on things, all her remaining time had been spent cutting heads.
Cutting, cutting, and more cutting.
She couldn't figure out how to solve the successor problem, nor did she want to spend the time to learn every detail about the survivors in order to find a suitable leader.
It was unrealistic.
Unless she had mind-reading abilities, or powers to force truth-telling, or perhaps brainwashing or hypnosis.
Unable to think of a solution, she decided not to waste time and instead came out to decapitate zombies.
If she couldn't think of an answer in a day, she'd spend the whole day cutting.
Thinking while cutting—after all, beheading didn't require thought.
Truth be told, Zeroy genuinely felt that compared to racking her brain over humanity's survival, managing every aspect of a survivor base, and searching for a qualified successor…
Beheading was far easier.
She even found herself starting to enjoy it.
Not because she was mentally unstable, but because compared to those troublesome tasks, it was indeed simpler and more comfortable.
And before she knew it, she had reached a million heads.
'…That's enough for now. Time to go back and rest a bit.'
Her detection radar showed the area within several kilometers completely cleared, only a few green dots—survivors—flickering faintly.
She had no plans to bring them back to the base.
In fact, after the third day, the base's population growth had slowed to a crawl.
Without time to manage the base and no successor yet, increasing numbers would only push it toward collapse.
So she had stopped bringing survivors in.
The only reason the population still rose slowly was that she had broadcast the base's existence over the radio, letting survivors come on their own.
Since she had cleared the area of zombies, they were fully capable of making it there themselves.
Even if they didn't, living outside temporarily wasn't especially dangerous.
At least there was no need to fear zombies. As for accidentally encountering infection sources or being harmed by malicious survivors—those risks existed in her base as well.
So it didn't matter if they stayed outside for now.
In fact, it was the only option—if numbers grew too large, her base would implode.
Then the casualties would be even greater.
Zeroy's lithe figure leapt between buildings, returning swiftly to the survivor base.
She planned to find Saeko Busujima for some good food, then lie in bed to empty her mind for a while, before inspecting the base.
But upon returning, she found trouble.
People had gathered in a square, where a group was arguing loudly with the others.
They were shouting hoarsely, faces flushed, accusing the others of something.
"Are you all insane? You actually treat that kind of monster as a savior!"
A greasy-faced man roared, eyes blazing with anger.
He suddenly slammed the metal bucket in his hand onto the ground, the crash drawing screams.
"Yesterday, my brother was perfectly fine—just had a fever—and she took that sword and charged in. In the blink of an eye..."
A choked gasp caught in his throat, his voice trembling. "Thirteen people—blood everywhere—heads all cut off!"
"She's a lunatic! A monster!"
Another man shouted in agreement, his tone filled with grief and resentment. "She didn't build this base to save us! She just wants to keep us penned in… like livestock!"
...
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