Episode o2
If I was going to regain memories of my past life, couldn’t they have come back before everything started?
The virus was already spreading—slowly, nationwide.
Even if I told people about this, would anyone believe me?
It was true that people paid attention to me, but never in a good way. In terms of credibility, I was about as trustworthy as a tabloid headline. A walking gossip magnet.
If I heard this story from someone else, I wouldn’t believe it either.
Damn it.
If this was how things were going to be, then there was only one way to survive.
I can’t afford to just lie in bed anymore.
I needed a place to hide from the monsters that would appear after the world’s collapse—a bunker. A shelter.
Even if the novel had been discontinued, I still remembered the general outline. With proper preparation, I could avoid the worst dangers.
And above all—
Thankfully, I had money. A lot of it.
People liked to say you couldn’t buy time with money. That was only because they didn’t have enough money. If I poured enough funds into it, I could drastically shorten the time needed to prepare a shelter.
Yeah. Let’s do it. I have memories from my past life—I can pull this off.
Once I made up my mind, the first person I sought out was the Sinclair family’s lawyer.
* * *
The lawyer’s office in the Sinclair estate.
Harrison was about ten years older than me, and to me, he was like an older brother. We’d grown up together. He wasn’t just the family lawyer—he was more like the Sinclair family’s agent and right-hand man.
“What do you mean by that, miss? Weapons?”
Harrison asked, seated gracefully on the sofa as he sipped his tea.
Neatly combed brown hair. Warm green eyes. He adjusted the glasses slipping down his nose and looked at me with confusion.
“Why would you suddenly need weapons?”
“To protect myself.”
He stared at me for a moment—then smiled softly.
That smile was extremely ominous.
“Please explain in more detail. What exactly do you intend to use these weapons for?”
His tone was gentle, like he was coaxing a child.
It practically said: What kind of trouble are you planning now?
Damn it. This won’t be easy.
If this were something I could handle on my own, that would’ve been ideal—but acquiring weapons, and in large quantities at that, required Harrison’s help. If I did it myself, I’d attract too much attention.
Harrison was competent. He could handle it cleanly.
I’d known from the start that a flimsy excuse like “I want to protect myself” wouldn’t work on him.
So I met his gaze directly—
And gathered every ounce of sincerity in the universe.
“There’s someone I want to shoot dead.”
Harrison’s hand froze mid-motion as he sat across from me, tea cup halfway to his lips.
But I was perfectly serious.
Of course I wanted to shoot them. Virus monsters threatening my life deserved nothing less.
Harrison slowly set the cup down and lifted his head. Light reflected off his glasses, obscuring his eyes.
“Who is that son of a b*tch?”
He adjusted his glasses again as he asked.
Now I had to be careful.
Harrison was overprotective. He would absolutely investigate whoever I named. I pulled out a handkerchief, putting on a pitiful expression as I dabbed at my perfectly dry eyes.
“That’s… not something I want to say out loud.”
Whew.
Even I thought that was a brilliant line.
This way, Harrison couldn’t press me any further. Sure, he’d probably assign someone to watch me discreetly—but I didn’t care.
All that mattered was preparing for the end.
There isn’t much time left anyway.
Harrison remained silent for a long while, lost in thought. Judging by his expression, he was probably narrowing down candidates for the mysterious “son of a b*tch.”
At last, he spoke.
“All right. For now, I understand. What kinds of weapons do you want? I’ll also arrange an instructor to teach you how to use them.”
“Swords, crossbows, axes—everything. One of each type. And Harrison, I don’t really need a teach—”
“Miss. This is non-negotiable.”
He was firm. No room for argument.
With only twenty-one days left until the apocalypse, I doubted I’d even get a chance to meet the instructor. Still, having a professional involved wouldn’t hurt. I nodded halfheartedly.
“Fine. Make sure there are plenty of spare weapons, too. I’m thinking of building an armory while we’re at it. You know how I am.”
Until just yesterday, I’d been a frivolous heiress who couldn’t stop spending until she’d gone all out. That image worked in my favor—Harrison nodded without much suspicion.
His expression practically said, She’s planning something ridiculous again.
Given Cherry Sinclair’s track record, I couldn’t exactly argue.
“Where are you planning to build this armory?”
“In a town called Brunel.”
“Brunel…?”
Harrison looked at me strangely.
Why that face?
Keeping calm, I replied,
“It’s not that far from the capital. Look it up on the map.”
Harrison stood up, pulled a map from his desk drawer, and spread it across the table. Brunel was a tiny village southeast of the capital.
“Miss… why this town, of all places?”
He looked at me like he genuinely couldn’t understand.
Which made sense. Brunel was a rural village without even a train station.
But I had a very clear reason.
Brunel was mentioned in Love in a Ruined World.
“Vanilla survived alone for half a year in a secluded mansion in Brunel Village.
She said the mansion was special—optimized for survival.
Seeing it in person, her words proved true.”
—Love in a Ruined World
Something along those lines.
Vanilla, a side character, survived for six months in that mansion after the apocalypse.
Six whole months.
That alone made it worth it.
When Aurora’s group eventually reached the mansion, that was when they met Vanilla. The estate stood atop a hill like a fortress. The spacious garden was perfect for farming, and the mountain behind it made gathering resources easy.
At the time, however, none of Aurora’s group were good at survival. They couldn’t handle the food shortage caused by their growing numbers and soon left. Only later—after meeting Jose, the sub–male lead and weapons expert—did they start to stabilize.
Food won’t be an issue if I create a self-sufficient environment.
In my past life, my parents were farmers. Wealthy landowners. I was supposed to inherit everything.
I’d never farmed myself, but I’d helped out occasionally. I’d learned by watching.
Surely I could manage.
It took two years in the novel before the protagonists met the scientist capable of developing a cure.
I only needed to survive for two years.
Would Harrison believe me if I explained all of this?
Figuring I had nothing to lose, I tried.
“Harrison, the world is going to end soon. A contagious disease that turns people into monsters will spread. I’m going to Brunel to prepare for it.”
I won’t bother describing how Harrison’s expression changed.
“……Do you need medication again? If you don’t want to go back to Ludfisher Hospital, I can find another. Perhaps it’d be best if you were admitted for a few days to rest—”
“No! I’m fine! It was a joke—just a joke! I had a dream. It was really vivid!”
I waved my hands frantically, insisting I was perfectly sane.
After my parents died, I’d gone through depression and taken medication briefly. I never imagined that would come back to haunt me like this.
I can’t be locked in a hospital when the apocalypse hits!
“As long as you’re all right.”
Harrison sighed in relief.
Of course. The only one who truly cared about me was Harrison.
Which was exactly why—
I had to bring him to the shelter.
“Um… Harrison. Would you come to Brunel with me? I don’t know much about armories, and you know I don’t have an eye for these things.”
He gave me a look that clearly said, You don’t even know weapons—why are you doing this at all?
I had no excuse, so I decided to be shameless.
“I’ll assign someone to assist you.”
“No. I want to go with you.”
Because I absolutely had to get him out of the capital.
Harrison frowned, staring at me like I was incomprehensible.
His expression practically asked—
What scheme are you plotting this time?
