I woke with a jolt as a sharp kick drove the air from my lungs. My eyes snapped open to see a towering man looming over me—handsome, if not for the ugly sneer twisting his face. His black hair brushed his shoulders, and his sharp, dark eyes burned with fury. He had to be at least six foot two.
Behind him, a girl sobbed softly, clutching his arm as if trying to hold him back. "Kaito, please—it's a misunderstanding," she cried. But her trembling voice didn't match the satisfaction gleaming in her light brown eyes. Her moonlit skin and waist-length black hair made her look delicate, almost ethereal, though she barely reached his shoulder.
As the man shouted obscenities, pieces of memory flickered in my mind, foreign yet vivid. The body I now possessed had apparently led the woman—Aiko Suzuki—toward a zombie horde in a fit of jealousy. "If I can't have you, no one can," he had said. And now, her current boyfriend—the man standing over me—was about to finish the job.
Wonderful.
I blinked, the situation settling like a puzzle clicking into place. Then, with deliberate calm, I asked silently,
(System, what's going on here?)
> [It seems your new body has been framed. And it's about to die, which, frankly, is convenient for us. This world has been overrun by zombies for over a decade. Traditional food no longer exists; people survive on mutated plants and monsters—though eating them risks infection. You are now in the body of Sora Wong, an unfortunate cannon fodder with your same name, who was doomed to be beaten to death by this 'protagonist' after the female lead claimed you tried to kill her.]
(Protagonist and female lead? We're not in a storybook, are we?)
> [No, Host. But those two are what we call 'Children of God.' The world bends around them like they're the main characters. Don't worry—they're not your concern. You have a mission to complete. We need to establish a Nexus Exchange.]
Ignoring the pair's shouting, I rose slowly to my feet. Their outrage blurred into background noise as I turned to leave—but before I could take two steps, the so-called protagonist grabbed my collar.
Bad move.
In one motion, I flipped him over my shoulder and drove a nearby stick through his leg, pinning him to the ground.
Aiko screamed as though she'd been the one impaled, rushing to his side. "What's wrong with you? Hurting Kaito won't make me love you!"
I didn't bother replying. I simply walked away, brushing the dirt from my sleeves, already thinking about where to build this supposed supermarket.
---
After about an hour and a half of walking through empty ruins, I sighed. (System, where do you think would be a good place to set up this… Nexus Exchange?)
> [I can't pick for you, but I suggest a cluster of abandoned buildings between two survivor bases. It's an hour away. I'll guide you.]
Great. More walking.
Still, I followed the directions, occasionally kicking loose stones along the cracked pavement. Partnered with System A001, a high-grade construct tasked with saving apocalyptic worlds, I should've felt important. Instead, it felt like I'd been demoted from cosmic agent to glorified cashier.
Eventually, I reached the buildings. The area was eerily silent, but no zombies appeared—not even a stray moan.
> [To ensure the host's safety, a three-meter non-detection field has been activated. Zombies will instinctively avoid you.]
That explained the peace and quiet.
My gaze wandered over the decaying structures until I found one large, mostly intact warehouse.
(How about this one?)
> [If that is what the host desires.]
(And how exactly do I set this up?)
Before the System could answer, a light-blue holographic screen flickered to life before me.
---
Agent 8205 | Name: Sora Wong
Age: 4,065
Balance: 3,000 Points
A glowing button labeled "Newbie Starter Kit" blinked invitingly. I pressed it.
My balance jumped to 53,000 Points, and new notifications appeared:
> Rewards acquired — Nexus Exchange blueprint, staff dormitory, stocked closet.
(Hmm. Not much.)
> [It's a starter kit, Host. Not a retirement fund.]
Ignoring A001's tone, I selected Build – Nexus Exchange.
Smoke began to rise from the cracked ground, swallowing the warehouse in a haze. Metal creaked and glass reformed. When the mist cleared, the structure stood renewed—same bones, but cleaner, brighter. The glass doors gleamed invitingly beneath a glowing sign:
The Nexus Exchange
A neon "Open" flickered faintly beside it.
"Lovely," I murmured.
Inside, the space was sparse: two shelves, a small counter, and a single door behind it leading deeper inside. Pulling up the holographic menu again, I found a new Shop tab. Two items were unlocked—Bread and Mineral Water—each costing 3 points and selling for 10.
(Isn't that a bit steep? Shouldn't the markup cap at eight?)
> [Host, you don't set prices. You sell. As you gain experience, more items and privileges unlock.]
I closed the panel before I could argue. No point debating economics with a talking algorithm.
Behind the counter, I found a doorway leading to the employee dormitory—a surprisingly cozy space. A soft black rug stretched under a modest couch and coffee table, facing a fifty-inch flat-screen TV. A sleek kitchen gleamed nearby, complete with a center island and neatly arranged appliances.
Down the short hallway, one door opened to a bedroom bathed in shades of gray. A king-sized bed dominated the room, opposite another TV. But what drew my attention was the walk-in closet, perfectly organized and fully stocked—with women's clothes, all my size.
Someone had thought of everything.
I ran a hand over the vanity's cool surface, the room too perfect, too expectant—as if it had been waiting for me.
Perfect — here's the expanded Chapter 2 with the fuller mirror scene, a touch of humor and introspection about his fashion sense, and the same tension and eerie atmosphere later on.
The other door in the dormitory led to a bathroom far too elegant for a ruined world. White marble counters gleamed under soft lights, and a faint scent of ozone hung in the air.
When I looked into the mirror, I froze.
The reflection that met me could have stepped out of a dream—or a mistake. Chest-length black hair spilled around my shoulders in loose waves, gleaming with a blue sheen under the lights. My eyes glowed an unnatural crimson, sharp and glassy against skin so pale it looked carved from porcelain.
I turned a little, examining the rest. At about five-five, the body was compact and balanced—narrow shoulders, defined waist, long legs, the suggestion of an hourglass line beneath the towel. There was strength there too, quiet and coiled, but nothing about it said brute force.
(…A001.)
> [Yes, Host?]
(You rebuilt me into a porcelain doll.)
> [The structure was optimized for energy conduction. Symmetry improves stability.]
"You mean you made me pretty."
> [That too.]
The shower hissed, steam clouding the mirror. I stepped beneath it, the water hot and real—a luxury in this broken world. When I emerged, towel-drying my hair, I caught my reflection again and smiled faintly. There was a strange comfort in it. This body looked halfway between the person I'd been and the kind of person I'd always wanted to be.
I let out a breath somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "If I'm going to be pretty, I'm going to enjoy it."
The stocked closet had clothes neatly folded by color and style—rows of black and white skirts, blouses with soft collars, shorts that stopped just above the knee, and neat pairs of thigh-high stockings. There were even simple dresses: clean lines, functional fabrics, but flattering all the same.
I chose a loose gray sweater that slipped off one shoulder, a short black skirt, and stockings that hugged my legs before disappearing into a pair of light boots. Practical, yes—but it made me feel human again.
(You really stocked these for me?)
> [All clothing was sized to your specifications. Presentation influences trust in commerce.]
"I'll take that as an excuse to look fabulous."
> [You may take it however you wish.]
---
By evening, the front counter was organized, the shelves stocked, and the neon sign above the glass doors flickered gently: Open.
No one came that night. Or the next morning.
I sat behind the counter in my sweater and skirt, legs crossed, chin resting in one hand. The holographic display blinked in the air above me.
> No current visitors detected.
Current sales: 0.
Motivation: -3%.
"That's rude," I muttered.
> [Just analytics.]
"Maybe I should hang a 'Grand Opening—Free Hugs with Purchase' sign."
> [Zombies cannot read.]
"…You are killing my comedic spirit, A001."
> [I was not aware you had one.]
I rolled my eyes.
---
Late the next afternoon, movement caught in the corner of my eye.
Six survivors approached— four men, two women—armed, tired, dangerous. Their boots crunched on broken pavement as they stopped before the doors.
The leader, a big man with a scar carving down his cheek, banged a gun against the glass. "Hey! Open up!"
The doors slid open on their own.
He stepped inside, scanning the spotless aisles. "Too clean," he muttered. "No way this is real."
"Welcome to the Nexus Exchange," I said lightly, brushing invisible dust from my skirt. "Feel free to browse. Purchases require registration."
"Registration?" He laughed—a short, ugly sound. "You think we're signing papers in the apocalypse? We take what we need."
One of the women hesitated. "Rafe, maybe don't—"
He ignored her and grabbed a loaf of bread from the shelf. "You gonna stop me, sweetheart?"
The word hit the air like a trigger.
The moment his hand closed around the package, the floor beneath him flared crimson. A sound like bones splintering echoed through the store. His body folded inward—bones, skin, all crushed into itself—and when it stopped, a single red cube sat where he'd been.
Perfectly clear. Faintly glowing.
> [New Item Created: Zombie Distraction Box – 200 Points.]
The cube shimmered and vanished, reappearing neatly on the shelf beside the bread.
The others stared. One man dropped his rifle. Another stumbled back, pale.
"System," I said quietly, "definition."
> [A concentrated lure that releases human blood pheromones. Attracts undead within five hundred meters. Single use.]
"Efficient," I murmured.
> [And profitable.]
I looked up at the trembling group. "Anyone else interested in our theft policy demonstration?"
No one spoke.
"Good. Registration's there."
They hesitated only a moment before approaching the glowing registration terminal.
"Name?" the machine asked in a calm, synthetic voice.
The first to step forward was the younger woman—the one who'd tried to stop Rafe. Her hands trembled as she pressed her palm to the scanner. "Kana Ito."
> [Identity registered. Please insert valuables for assessment.]
Kana unfastened a delicate silver bracelet from her wrist and placed it onto the tray. The scanner pulsed blue.
> [Material: 86% silver. Design complexity: moderate. Value: 120 points.]
A soft chime, and a thin black card slid from the terminal, glowing faintly with her name. Kana stared at it, then at me, uncertain.
I gestured toward the shelves. "Bread and mineral water. Ten points each. You can buy directly through the card."
She hesitated, then picked up two loaves and three bottles.
> [Purchase: Bread ×2 (20 pts), Mineral Water ×3 (30 pts). Balance remaining: 70 points.]
Kana exhaled softly—half disbelief, half relief. "Real food…"
The next customer, a lanky man with sunken eyes, stepped up. "Tomo Yamaguchi." He dropped two cloudy crystal cores onto the tray.
> [Analyzing… Crystal cores: Level 1 ×2. Total value: 200 points.]
The system printed his card. He immediately grabbed five loaves and five bottles.
> [Purchase total: 100 points. Remaining balance: 100 points.]
He didn't thank me, but I noticed the faint tremor in his hand as he carried the food away.
The third in line—broad-shouldered, wary—grunted, "Rin Takeda." He placed a gold ring and one darker core onto the tray.
> [Gold purity: 91%. Gemstone: low-grade topaz. Crystal core: Level 2. Total value: 820 points.]
His eyes widened. "That much?"
"The Nexus pays fair," I said.
He nodded and loaded a small pack with supplies—ten loaves, ten bottles.
> [Purchase: 200 points. Balance remaining: 620 points.]
Fourth was a woman with cropped hair and cool eyes. "Mika." She laid out three silver chains and one faintly glowing core.
> [Metals: 240 points. Crystal core: Level 3. Total: 740 points.]
She studied the shelves, expression unreadable, and finally picked up six loaves and six bottles.
> [Purchase total: 120 points. Balance remaining: 620 points.]
Her gaze flicked once to the red cube gleaming faintly on the display shelf. "That's what happens if we steal?"
"Precisely," I said. "No refunds."
The last survivor, a younger boy who hadn't spoken, stepped forward silently. His voice cracked as he said, "Junpei Arai." He offered a rusted silver pendant.
> [Material: 60% silver. Design: simple. Value: 40 points.]
He bought three bottles of water and one loaf of bread, clutching them like treasure.
> [Purchase total: 40 points. Balance: 0.]
When they finished, the group gathered quietly at the door. No one mentioned Rafe. The cube on the shelf pulsed once, its faint red glow reflected in their wide eyes.
---
After they left, the terminal projected a summary above the counter.
> Transaction Summary
Kana Ito — +120 pts / −50 spent → 70 remaining
Tomo Yamaguchi — +200 pts / −100 spent → 100 remaining
Rin Takeda — +820 pts / −200 spent → 620 remaining
Mika — +740 pts / −120 spent → 620 remaining
Junpei Arai — +40 pts / −40 spent → 0 remaining
Total profit: 510 points
Enforcement collateral: 1 body converted into merchandise
---
I leaned back, crossing my legs and idly tugging my skirt straight. "So, profit and body count. Great combination."
> [Congratulations, Host. Five successful registrations, total sales of fifty-three items, and one disciplinary conversion. Nexus operations functioning within optimal range.]
"Good to know our customer service department is off to a bloody start."
> [Pun acknowledged. Humor detected.]
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You're learning."
> [Slowly.]
The overhead lights dimmed to a soft amber glow as evening settled. Outside, the city ruins stretched silent and gray. The Nexus Exchange stood like a beacon, untouched and humming faintly with hidden energy.
I caught my reflection in the counter glass—long black hair, red eyes, a faint smile curving my lips.
"…Open for business," I murmured.
> [Please smile more, Host. It improves sales metrics.]
"Shut up, A001."
My eyes slid toward the glowing red cube on the shelf, its label pulsing faintly.
"…Welcome to customer service," I murmured.