PRLZAR 01

Chapter : 01

【Prologue】

Everyone,

Haven’t you ever imagined something like this at least once before going to sleep?

What if a zombie outbreak happened in Korea?

Then here’s a question.

Q. If a zombie outbreak broke out, what are the three things you’d want to take with you? (Choose one of the options.)

Crowbar / Chainsaw
Lighter or matches / Axe
Canned food / Drinking water

If you chose the chainsaw, then congratulations—you’ve received an F in Zombie Survival Studies.

Given that zombies react to sound, the moment you turn that thing on, it’s basically the same as shouting,
“Dear zombies, I’m right here! Please come and eat me!”

So let’s change the question.

Q. If you were reincarnated into a romance-fantasy novel one year before a zombie outbreak, what three things would you want to take with you?

???
No, seriously, why
How did the question even end up like this

I was reincarnated into a novel called 〈I Became the Saint in a Zombie Apocalypse〉.

It was a romance-fantasy novel where a zombie apocalypse breaks out, and as the title suggests, the protagonist was the saint Ella, who had been hit by the classic possession truck.

The main story followed Saint Ella as, after the outbreak, she struggled along with people who had no knowledge of zombies, using her holy power to gradually eradicate them.

This novel was especially infamous for its long and painful “sweet potato” sections. Since the very concept of “zombies” didn’t exist in this world, people’s early responses were unbelievably frustrating.

And thanks to the author’s detailed descriptions of how people turned into zombies without any countermeasures and how the infection spread, Saint Ella ended up fighting alone in a world that had basically become World War Z.

Thank goodness Saint Ella was absurdly strong. If she hadn’t been, both I and the readers would’ve dropped the story early on.

Right.

Let’s say Saint Ella got hit by the possession truck.

Then why… was I here?

If I died from overwork, I should’ve just gone peacefully to the afterlife. Why did I have to be reincarnated into a novel of all things?

Fine. I’m generous, so I can accept being reincarnated into a novel.

Then I could’ve at least been reincarnated as a typical romance-fantasy villain.

Because, you know, I could just not be evil and live nicely.

A horror-urban-legend romance fantasy?

I could follow the protagonists around without trolling them.

But why—out of everything—did it have to be a zombie apocalypse romance fantasy?

If it were a modern zombie novel, people would at least know what “zombies” are and try to avoid them or deal with them.

This was basically like being thrown into a dead end and told to die.

Was dying from overwork considered “dying peacefully,” so now I had to try dying by getting bitten by zombies once too?

No.

Still, it wasn’t true that there was only one path to death.

I suddenly remembered my past life one day when I was twenty, crying my eyes out after my parents passed away. And I realized this was a world inside a novel the following year, while I was trimming flowers.

That was exactly two weeks ago.

And I believe that was God’s final mercy.

Because the zombie outbreak would occur on April 1st, Imperial Year 257, and today was April 15th, Imperial Year 256.

At that moment, I dropped my pruning shears.

There was only one thought filling my head.

X damn it^^ I’m screwed!

Whether by misfortune or fortune, I wasn’t a villain in this novel. I wasn’t a nuisance character, and I wasn’t the protagonist either.

I was more like the villain’s beloved doll—No. 1.

You know, the kind of supporting character who nags the villain from the sidelines.

That was me. A character who appeared occasionally in the novel and got bitten by a zombie and died before the villain did.

Still, it was fortunate. My family—the family of Vanessa, me—owned the largest mine in the Empire and was famous even among nobles for being wealthy.

I stopped trimming the branches and immediately sold off everything I owned: my mansion, the mines, and all the prime land throughout the Empire. Since I sold them in a rush, they went for dirt cheap—but I was satisfied.

With a zombie outbreak happening in a year, no one would care about losing 10% or 20% of property value. And just like that, I ended up with more cash than I could ever need.

With that money, over the course of two weeks, I:

Found a vast, empty piece of land far away from villages and cities—somewhere people could never hope to stumble upon.
Made sure it was near a lake or the sea (because I’d need fish for food).
Hired 100 construction workers to build a fortress there.
Bought all kinds of seeds (hundreds of them) and chickens, pigs, and cows.
Finally, hired an excellent magician to create warehouses with preservation magic and toilets with proper sewage systems.

I spent almost all my money doing this.

There was no choice—I had to hire a massive number of construction workers at once to build everything quickly. And hiring a renowned magician was expensive as well.

But as of today, I was finally free from the zombie nightmares that had plagued me every night.

The land I found was a place that would be 100%—no, 1,000%—safe when the zombie outbreak occurred, and the fortress built there was flawless.

On top of that, with warehouses protected by preservation magic, storing smoked meat, seeds, and other food would be no problem at all.

Good.

Let’s see if I can live a long, disease-free life in this zombie apocalypse romance fantasy.

Just as I was about to leave the city, something grabbed my ankle.

It was my one and only friend—the villain, Leila.

In the novel, she was a nuisance character who tormented Saint Ella, but to me, she was a precious friend.

She was the friend who worried about me after I lost my parents, visiting my mansion every day by carriage for tea.

Even after going home, she’d still worry, chatting endlessly through a video orb until I fell asleep.

I went straight to Leila’s house.

A butler guided me to the garden. Leila, who had been arranging flowers, greeted me brightly.

“Oh my! Vanessa! What brings you here so early?”

“Leila. I need to talk to you.”

I tightly grabbed Leila’s hand.

Her cheeks flushed as if she were embarrassed.

“What is it, like a knight or something? What’s going on?”

“Come with me. Let’s leave this city.”

“What?! Oh come on, Vanessa, that’s a joke, right?”

“I’m not joking. I’m serious.”

Leila studied my face closely. Realizing I meant it, she leaned in and whispered.

“Should I find you a counselor?”

“I’m serious! Just one year—leave the city with me for one year.”

“Why all of a sudden, Vanessa? I’m worried about you.”

Thinking my depression might have returned, she gently brushed my hair behind my ear.

I sighed, choosing my words.

Yeah, Leila. Something is going on. In a year, this city will burn down, everyone will become zombies. Zombies are basically living corpses that go ‘uurrrgh’ while walking around, mindlessly eating and attacking people. If you get bitten, you turn into one too, and it all starts next year. How do I know? Because I reincarnated into a novel. Haha. Hard to believe, right? Same.

Ugh, never mind. How was I supposed to explain all that?

I grabbed Leila’s hand again and said,

“Leila, you said you wanted to move to the countryside. You said you were sick of high society. Let’s run away together for just one year. I’m really struggling.”

There it was.

My ultimate secret technique against Leila.

The so-called ‘I’m struggling’ move.

After my parents died, I hadn’t said that even once—except for a single time. When Leila heard it, she looked like the sky itself had collapsed.

She stayed at my house for a whole month after that. She wouldn’t leave no matter how much I told her to go home. Even when her parents tried to drag her back, she refused—until I told her I was okay again.

Sure enough, the moment she heard my words, I saw her beautiful blue eyes tremble. After a long silence, she seemed to make up her mind, removed her white gloves, and said,

“Alright. Let’s go. Now?”

“Yeah. Right now!”

“Okay. I’ll pack my things and come out!”

As she ran into the mansion, I could hear the maids and attendants trying to stop her.

“Lady Leila! Where are you going?!”

“Lady Leila!”

“It’s fine. I’ll just leave a letter for my parents and come back. They’ll understand.”

I wanted to take Leila’s parents with us too, but that was impossible. They were an extremely busy count and countess.

I’d bring them just one week before the outbreak.

“Let’s go!”

Leila tugged on my hand energetically.

“Will this be okay?”