How Zombies Survive in the Apocalypse - Chapter 11

In the blood-soaked world of Magus , Aizen, a young man from Earth, finds himself thrust into a brutal reality where Sorcery reigns supreme. Once a lowly servant, despised and humiliated, Aizen hid his true intentions beneath a mask of submission. With each insult endured and every drop of blood spilled, he sharpened his resolve, guided by the mysterious Wisdom System.

Beatrice Da Ville was supposed to be the villainess. A spoiled, arrogant noblewoman who terrorized the heroine, only to be executed for her crimes. At least, that’s how the story was supposed to go.But when a 21st-century woman wakes up in Beatrice’s body, she has zero intention of following the original plot. Execution? Betrayal? A bloody downfall? Absolutely not. She just wants to keep her head down, avoid drama, and live a long, peaceful life.Unfortunately, her unbothered attitude, modern slang, and sheer survival instincts keep catching the attention of all the wrong people. The nobles think she’s a genius, the royal family is amused, and worst of all—the cold Crown Prince Francois Montague, who was supposed to fall for the heroine, won’t stop watching her.Meanwhile, the original heroine, Johanna Lockhart, starts to realize that her perfect fairytale is slipping away. The world that once adored her now whispers about Beatrice instead. And the more she loses, the more dangerous she becomes.With a fate that refuses to let her go, a jealous heroine turning villainous, and an infuriatingly handsome prince who definitely didn’t love her in the original story, Beatrice has one goal.Survive. Thrive. And absolutely, under no circumstances, follow the script.

When I woke up after a pretty crappy death, what greeted me was one of those famous fantasy worlds! I didn’t expect anything like becoming the strongest with a common job, or rising to the top with the weakest class…

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.