Late night.
The dilapidated convent.
"Lord, please forgive my sins..."
The nun was kneeling before the divine statue, hands clasped together, murmuring her prayers.
She could feel her own posture; the way her kneeling caused her thighs and buttocks to press together, creating a silhouette that would draw any man's gaze.
How could a nun possess a body that looked so utterly unlike that of an ascetic?
Because of this, she had always been marginalized in the city convents. She had even been provoked by the words of sanctimonious priests.
She was terrified of becoming like those impure nuns who preached corruption—nuns for whom practice was no longer about faith, but about using holy ground to engage in filth with men.
Did she think applying to a frontier town would be enough to escape the city's reach?
The convent here truly was hers alone; no one looked at her through a tinted lens, and she rarely had to go out.
If it were just her, it would be fine.
But she had brought her young sisters. Growing a few vegetables wasn't enough; they needed money. Whether for clothes or books so they could study, they needed money.
Against a backdrop everyone knew too well, it was only natural for her to be targeted.
That merchant...
"Sister, this is for you."
"A run-down church like this can't possibly turn a profit. You only have yourself. It must be very hard."
While saying those things, his eyes would shamelessly wander over her body.
Rose knew very well that her body possessed a unique temptation for men. She did not like this body.
He came again and again.
There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
"Leah and Elena need books? I have some here, take them."
Rose desperately wanted to refuse the merchant's gifts.
But the man accurately guessed her most urgent needs—the things her sisters required—every single time. Moreover, he wore a hypocritical smile and never made a single demand.
Furthermore, prices were hiked whenever she tried to buy things elsewhere... she didn't know if the merchant was behind it or someone else. But she knew that any seemingly free gift came with an underlying motive.
And the only thing she had left was her body.
Rose had already sold everything she could sell.
If she wanted her sisters to live healthily and gain knowledge, she had to find a way to earn money.
The letters she sent to the Church pleading for help had gone unanswered for a month.
Now, let alone books, they could barely afford to eat. The stewed beans were getting thinner, and the two children were growing weaker by the day.
She thought to herself:
What would happen if she actually gave her body to that man, as his hints suggested?
There could only be one outcome.
Just like the fallen nuns she had seen in the city, she would be toyed with at a man's whim and eventually sold cheaply. There were few good people in the convents; how could someone offering "support" in exchange for her body be a good person? Even the agreement to support the church was likely a lie.
A truly despicable fellow.
Compared to a scumbag who revealed his motives openly, his hypocrisy made Rose feel even more nauseous. But having accepted his things several times... in the merchant's mind, she was likely already his prey.
And in truth, wasn't she?
She didn't know when the thought first emerged.
If she didn't want to fall, couldn't she just kill him?
The clothes he wore, the jewelry he had—they were all valuable. She could sell them, and her sisters could take the money and leave.
How could she kill an adult male?
She was confused.
But an idea flickered in Rose's mind. If she wanted to, she could kill him. But the price was abandoning her faith and tainting herself with human life. Becoming a monster.
It was an absurd thought.
Yet Rose felt a sense of reality... a visceral feeling that she could do it if she simply chose to.
Her consciousness drifted.
Gradually, her mind held only two thoughts: a devout farewell before the Lord, and the plan to kill the merchant whenever he appeared next.
The confession booth.
"Is someone pushing the door?"
"It must be that bad man again!"
"..."
Rose hadn't expected the merchant to come so soon.
As she thought, after giving her gifts a few times, he couldn't wait any longer to reveal his true colors.
But she felt it was for the best. The sooner he was dealt with, the sooner her sisters could live a normal life.
"Now, now. I don't know where you heard that, but Mr. Silas isn't who you think he is. He's just here to talk to me about the future of the orphanage."
She thought this while maintaining her adult composure. "Go back to sleep, everyone. Mr. Silas should be arriving. This is an adult matter. What you need most right now is to sleep."
She couldn't let her young sisters see her hands stained with blood or witness her transforming into some kind of monster.
"Really? But would those people... really be so kind as to help us?"
"Are you sure he didn't use some disgusting request to threaten you, Sister?"
"..."
Rose did her best to explain away the man outside the door.
Threats? Yes, there were.
But she did not intend to yield. Anyone who approached a nun with those thoughts deserved to die.
The nun was nervous, suppressing a killing intent she could barely contain as she slid the bolt back.
"I didn't expect you at this hour...?"
It wasn't the man she remembered.
Instead, it was a woman who looked somewhat familiar, scratching at the wooden door with her nails. Her eyes were an unnatural, terrifying white. Behind her stood five or six women in a similar state, their builds ranging from petite to full-figured. There were even more staggering, strange figures entering through the now-broken front gate.
"...Lady Osman?"
The nun suddenly remembered who the woman was. As a member of the Church, she had seen this high-and-mighty noblewoman when she first arrived in town. Unfortunately, the woman hadn't seemed to care much for her.
"Hah!"
Without giving her time to think, the noblewoman lunged at her the moment she spotted her. As she rushed in, the walking dead outside also quickened their pace.
"Sister Rose!"
The two children were terrified, not knowing what to do.
"..."
The nun had only one thought.
Her sisters must not die.
These people had to die... they had become strange, for whatever reason. They were enemies. They were food.
Go outside and eat them.
Thinking this, she didn't know where the strength came from, but she used her forearm to block the lunging noblewoman. She shoved the two children into the hall through the confession booth's front door and locked it.
Squish.
Her wrist was bitten by the noblewoman, leaving deep teeth marks and dripping blood. But she felt no pain. She only grew more violent, her consciousness becoming increasingly blurred.
Just eat them all.
Late night.
Outside the church.
Silas had a noble's cigarette in his mouth and took a light puff.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
He tossed it immediately. Things hidden in noble houses weren't necessarily good by modern standards.
He fiddled with a wooden crossbow he had found at the mansion. The operation was easy enough to understand: a string, a catch, and some heavy, sharpened wooden bolts. As for the draw weight... Silas didn't want to talk about it. He had to sit on the ground, brace the crossbow with both feet, and pull the string with both hands using every ounce of strength just to lock it into the catch.
But because it required such force, placing a bolt into the groove made Silas feel like this thing could probably punch through human bone at close range. He had tested it; it had no problem sinking several centimeters into a wooden board. The wood used for the bolts seemed to be of high quality. Being a noble's crossbow, it was much better than anything found in a commoner's house.
He looked toward the open door of the church.
The door had been forced by Silas, and the walking dead had been lured there by Silas ringing a small bell.
He had previously seen her mutate into a terrifying creature and slaughter the town after forty days, but this was only the tenth day.
And Silas had directly lured most of the town's population there. Even if she killed them all, he would surely have a chance to fire off a couple of bolts, right?
He carried over a dozen bolts. He was prepared to vent his frustration on the nun even if he failed the mission.
"Tch."
Watching the walking dead still filing inside, Silas wiped the dust from the crossbow's groove.
The undead he had brought were all female; he didn't quite understand why. The sound of the bell attracted both genders, but the males were difficult to keep interested. The moment Silas stopped ringing, the male undead would immediately fall into a daze and stop following. Only the female undead were more sensitive and would keep following him.
It didn't matter; having over a hundred was enough.
If the dozens of female undead already inside didn't succeed, he would immediately run out and grab more as new "companions."
What was a nun with two little girls compared to his companions ranging from eight to eighty?
"..."
The church had been noisy just now, with children screaming. Now, it was silent.
Are those two little girls dead?
While Silas felt a twinge of conscience, things had gone this far; he couldn't die just to let those children live.
Click.
Silas pressed the release on the catch and, holding the crossbow, climbed over the other side of the church wall.
The area around the confession booth was swarming with the undead.
Some of the female undead had twisted limbs—likely sent flying by the nun's mutated strength when they charged. A few meters away from the wooden door, a dozen or so backsides of various sizes were swaying, pinning the nun down in a literal pile of flesh.
She wasn't invincible, it seemed.
She was pinned and unable to move. The woman closest to her had already opened her mouth and bitten a chunk of flesh from her wrist as she struggled.
The nun's clothes were already in tatters from the excessive interaction with these women.
A bright red maw split open between her snow-white mounds. This time, Silas watched from a distance and could clearly see the ribs and internal organs inside. In a way, the nun was the one person Silas had reached the maximum "negative distance" with in this game.
Thud.
Silas held the crossbow, slowly approaching. At a distance of seven or eight meters, he aimed the bolt right at her head. Although Silas had used this thing several times, the accuracy was poor; he had to be close to guarantee a lethal shot.
It would be best to shoot her the moment she started eating someone—that was the safest bet. At least with a person stuffed into her chest, she wouldn't have room for him.
Even if he didn't kill her, he could run outside and lead her into the even larger horde of undead. Then find another chance. As long as he was among the undead, Silas had an infinite supply of meat shields.
"..."
But Silas waited for a long time and the nun didn't eat anyone.
"Ha..."
He saw that the nun was still desperately resisting the women trying to gnaw on her flesh. Her clothes were torn, revealing large patches of white skin, and he could even catch a glimpse of pink. The terrifying giant mouth had vanished, leaving only a faint red line.
She seemed to have noticed Silas's approach.
Her face was contorted; something other than the wound on her wrist seemed to be causing her more pain. "Is... anyone... there?"
"Are you... normal? Save me... save Leah and Elena..."
"I beg of you... I'll do... anything... ha... anything."
"..."
Silas was ready to just fire a headshot at close range and be done with it. But what the hell was this?
[After choosing not to push the door open, you brought the noblewoman and other abnormal residents you were familiar with to the church. You led them there to force the door.]
[You had already decided to kill the nun.]
[But she seems to have regained clarity due to the shock of seeing so many abnormal residents and the physical pain. She did not mutate.]
[You decide...]
[Important Choice Triggered]
[Option 1: Kill her. If I let her go just because she begged, where would my pride be?]
[Option 2: Help her. Save her first, then decide what to do based on my mood.]
This was a second choice triggered by a twist of fate.
He had thought that if the nun was going to mutate no matter what, he'd just shoot her dead. Then he'd use his last life to trigger the important choice and go back to the "training" route with all these female friends, making sure to enter her body to make progress. He figured even if he failed the mission, he'd at least vent some anger.
[You chose Option 2]
But since she didn't change, there was no need to go out of his way to do anything extra.
Silas felt a bit stuck, caught in the middle.
"Phew..."
Silas lowered the crossbow. He took a deep breath. "ALL OF YOU! LOOK OVER HERE!!!"
Attracted by the shout, the female undead turned toward Silas and chased him out. The nun was able to scramble free from her restraints.
"..."
It took Silas some time to return to the confession booth. He found the nun lying there motionless.
There were bite marks on her wrists and shoulders. Blood had soaked through her clothes. Some of the torn fabric was even embedded in her flesh.
Is she dead?
"..."
He felt her warm mounds; there was still a heartbeat. The faint red line on her chest was even more blurred. It seemed she had just collapsed from exhaustion.
[You successfully prevented the nun's mutation. Easy-tier mission completed.]
[Simulation paused. Distributing mission rewards...]
Before he could react, the text box reappeared.
Silas's consciousness was forced back to the stable.
Staring at the scrolling text, he absentmindedly kneaded the rump of the brown mare next to him. It was very elastic.
Indeed, all fear stems from a lack of firepower. Bringing over a hundred female friends and a hunting crossbow to visit the nun meant he wasn't afraid for a single second.
It was much better to have the initiative. What was that "training route" where he was coerced by her madness? He would be the one to decide. He was the player.
Now, it was time for the nun to wonder if he would turn on her, and for the tables to turn.