[Content Warning]
This story does not include any systems or cheat abilities. The protagonist is an ordinary transmigrator, and romance is not a focus of the story.
The timeline begins three months before Rick awakens. The early chapters focus on everyday events as the protagonist gradually builds connections with the Reapers and begins developing her own faction. The apocalypse itself will arrive later in the story.
The female lead is a growth-type character. Before transmigrating, she was just a normal person and does not start out powerful or invincible.
In the beginning, she tends to rely on stronger people around her and will occasionally make mistakes. Her mindset and abilities will develop over time as the story progresses.
Although her new identity is wealthy, it is not realistic for her to instantly stockpile decades' worth of apocalypse supplies for everyone.
To stay consistent with the tone of The Walking Dead, some characters may use rough language or crude expressions.
Thank you for your patience, and enjoy the story.
——Main Text Divider——
Tennessee, USA.
University of Tennessee Medical Center, a private hospital room.
"Vital signs stable. Brain scans show no obvious abnormalities…"
"Miss Norton, can you hear me?"
"Strange. All her indicators are improving. Why hasn't she woken up yet?"
"Let's keep observing. Based on all the tests, she should've regained consciousness already. This doesn't make medical sense…"
Who was talking?
Miss Norton… were they calling me?
After an unknown amount of time, Carly finally opened her eyes.
She instinctively pushed herself up slightly and looked around at the unfamiliar medical equipment. Her mind was a mess.
Thinking she might still be dreaming, she absentmindedly rubbed her eyes. The next second, panic surged through her when she noticed something wrong.
Her fingers were long and soft, decorated with delicate embossed nail art. The skin on the back of her hand was pale and cool. An IV tube was inserted there, making the blue veins stand out even more clearly.
These were clearly the hands of someone who had lived a pampered life.
This wasn't her body.
Once that realization struck, Carly quickly looked around and noticed even more things that didn't belong.
The IV bag beside the bed had the patient's information written in English:
Calista Norton, 17 years old.
The discovery made her even more agitated. Breathing rapidly, Carly reached out and tried to pull the IV tube from her hand.
The next moment, the ward door was pushed open.
Several white female nurses rushed in, flustered, trying to calm her while rattling off English all at once.
"Miss Norton is awake!"
"She's too agitated—possible post-traumatic symptoms!"
"Miss Norton, please calm down!"
...
Amid the overlapping voices trying to soothe her, Carly finally accepted the truth.
She had transmigrated.
She had become a white teenage girl named Calista.
Once she calmed down, Calista was escorted by a nurse to the restroom.
She stared blankly at the girl in the mirror.
Messy blonde hair.
Fair skin.
Narrow gray-blue eyes shaped like a cat's, full lips, and a high, delicate nose.
On the right side of her cheekbone was a small black mole—exactly the same as the one she'd had herself.
The original body was stunningly beautiful.
Bandages wrapped around her collarbone, faint blood seeping through like scattered crimson petals, adding a fragile, broken charm to her appearance.
At seventeen, Calista was already tall and fully developed.
This body was even more perfect than the actresses she'd seen in American TV shows.
Thinking of that, Calista rubbed her forehead in frustration and glanced at the nurse beside her.
She had none of the original owner's memories. Her mind was completely blank, and she knew nothing about her current situation.
From the nurses' scattered remarks earlier, she had pieced together a few details.
The original owner had been in a car accident with her mother. Her mother died on the spot, while she herself had remained unconscious for an entire week before finally leaving the ICU.
She had no idea whether the original owner had any other family members, or if she might accidentally expose herself.
The only thing worth feeling relieved about was that this wasn't some strange fantasy world.
It was modern-day Knoxville, Tennessee in the United States—the same place where she had once studied abroad.
Maybe someday she could even find time to return home and see if her original body still existed.
But when she thought about how her parents might react after discovering she had suddenly died alone in her apartment, Calista felt a sharp ache in her chest.
However, that sadness gradually turned into something strange after she borrowed the nurse's phone.
Her parents' and best friend's numbers were disconnected.
The large state-owned company she had worked for simply didn't exist online.
The nurse's phone was an old Nokia model.
And the date displayed on the screen read:
July 12, 2010.
She hadn't just transmigrated.
She had traveled back more than a decade into another world.
A world where none of her family or friends existed.
Everything connected to her previous life—every person, every trace—was gone.
Calista covered her eyes weakly and let out a long sigh.
——
"Miss Norton?"
Calista snapped out of her thoughts.
She had been awake for three days now. Because she had seemed confused and disoriented after waking, the hospital suspected her brain hadn't fully recovered. To make observation easier, the head nurse had declined all visitors for her.
Today, someone other than doctors and nurses had finally come to see her.
A white-haired man wearing an Armani suit spread a stack of documents on the hospital tray table. He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his pocket, breathed on them, and carefully wiped them.
"My name is Gene. Gene Toddy. I was your mother Margaret's lawyer—and also a good friend of hers. You know, she was a wonderful woman. I'm deeply sorry for what happened to you. Child, you must stay strong."
The old man put on his glasses and handed the documents to Calista with a sympathetic look.
"According to your mother's living trust, she left all her assets to you."
Hearing this, Calista tried to recall the image of the original owner's mother.
After a moment, a memory suddenly surfaced in her mind.
A pink Maserati spinning out of control and crashing toward a guardrail.
At the last second, the blonde woman in the driver's seat jerked the steering wheel sharply.
The driver's side slammed directly into the barrier.
Meanwhile, the girl in the passenger seat was knocked unconscious by the airbag exploding open with a loud bang.
Calista fell silent.
That was the car accident that had taken Margaret's life.
And Calista—the girl Margaret had protected with her life—hadn't survived either.
Instead, she had been replaced by Carly from another world.
She silently flipped through the inheritance list, becoming more shocked with every page.
This was… truly an unexpected way to become filthy rich overnight.
Her parents had divorced early.
Her wealthy father had settled in Europe.
Her beautiful mother was a socialite.
And the original owner—raised in a broken family—had grown rebellious, with a personality almost identical to Chanel from Scream Queens.
The original owner had no true friends.
The only person who might have noticed something wrong—her mother—was already dead.
And now she had more money than she could ever spend.
By all accounts, this was an excellent start to a transmigration story.
Until Calista noticed a name on one of the documents.
"Leah Shaw?"
The paper was yellowed with age. The date at the bottom was twenty years ago—before the original owner had even been born.
Yet the name seemed strangely familiar.
Calista thought hard but was certain she didn't personally know anyone with that name.
So why did it feel so familiar?
Trying to gather more information, Calista asked casually,
"Gene, there are even handwritten documents here."
Gene shifted his round belly with some effort and leaned closer to examine the file.
"Hmm, let me see… Ah, this is Margaret's ex-husband's death certificate. Leah Shaw is the daughter she had with her ex-husband."
"Why have I never heard about this?"
Gene wasn't sure whether she meant Margaret having a former husband who had long since died, or the fact that Calista had a half-sister from her mother.
He assumed Margaret simply hadn't wanted to talk about the past with her daughter.
"Well… I'm not very familiar with her earlier life either. We only got close after she married Mr. Norton. After all, your father's businesses often needed legal consultation."
He paused, clearly reluctant to talk about his late friend's past.
Calista immediately lowered her head, her expression drooping like a pitiful kitten that hadn't received any affection.
The kind-hearted old man couldn't bear it and continued,
"Her ex-husband was a military officer who spent most of his time on duty. Their eldest daughter chose to stay with her father.
"So after the divorce, Margaret didn't want much contact with them. Later, she only heard that he died during a mission somewhere."
"Oh. So what is Shaw doing now?"
It sounded like some irrelevant background figure, so Calista asked casually.
"Margaret didn't keep in touch with her. Shaw joined the army about ten years ago. She was stationed in Afghanistan, or somewhere like that."
Gene shrugged and pushed the rest of the documents toward her.
"What? Where is she now?"
Calista's voice suddenly rose.
Gene thought she was worried that this half-sister she had never met might show up to claim part of Margaret's inheritance. He spread his hands reassuringly.
"She should already be discharged and living in Virginia. But that's not important. Margaret's will leaves everything to you, so you don't need to worry about her."
Oh no.
Calista suddenly had something new to worry about.
This wasn't some random nobody.
This was the tall, formidable woman from The Walking Dead—the agile fighter who was officially confirmed in the series as Daryl's only love interest.
The top-tier female combat powerhouse in The Walking Dead.
The new leader of the Reapers.
Leah Shaw.