Progress: 1 / ???
Reward: +0.25 Quest Coins
"Oh," I murmured. "So that's what it means."
Each kill by physical, non-magical means counted—and the reward was there, small but tangible.
A quarter of a coin per kill.
"Only that much?" I muttered aloud, brow furrowing. "That's barely worth the effort."
Shalltear, who had been watching with faint curiosity, blinked. "My lord, did you say something?"
"Nothing important," I said, waving it off. "Just… doing the math."
At 0.25 Quest Coins per zombie, I'd need to kill two thousand just to afford one world transfer.
That was going to take forever.
Still, it wasn't about the money right now—it was about understanding the system.
Another zombie lunged, and this time, I twisted my body, catching its neck with my hand before snapping it in one smooth motion.
Progress: 2 / ???
+0.25 Quest Coins
The system chimed again.
Interesting. It really was tracking each individual physical kill.
I looked toward the remaining horde, who were now closing in fast, their howls echoing in the barren field.
Shalltear smiled beside me, clearly amused. "It seems my lord has found himself some entertainment."
I cracked my neck, feeling my blood stir with faint anticipation. "Maybe a little."
"Would you like me to assist you?" she asked, lifting her parasol and twirling it elegantly. "Of course, only if it doesn't interfere with your… experiment."
I thought for a moment, then smirked. "You can have half."
Her eyes sparkled. "Then I shall take that as permission."
We stepped forward together as the horde surrounded us.
The wind picked up, carrying the stench of decay. Dust swirled around our feet.
Then, in the midst of the chaos, Shalltear and I moved—her with her parasol, me with my fists.
She struck gracefully, impaling zombies with her crimson spear as I crushed skulls and shattered spines with raw force. No spells, no magic, no tricks—just the raw brutality of hand-to-hand combat.
For every blow I landed, the system chimed softly in the back of my mind.
+0.25
+0.25
+0.25
And even though the rewards were minuscule, something about it felt strangely satisfying.
When the last zombie fell, silence returned once more. The field was littered with corpses, the air heavy with the smell of blood and dust.
Shalltear closed her parasol with a delicate snap and turned to me, smiling faintly.
"My lord," she said, "I must say… you make the apocalypse look elegant."
I chuckled. "Elegance, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."
And as the faint blue glow of the system faded, I realized something.
I only got 25 quest coins from killing all those zombies, and none of Shalltear's kills even counted.
I sighed and dismissed the window. Apparently, the system only recognized my kills as valid. "Seems like we'll need to be more efficient," I muttered.
Shalltear tilted her head, her silver hair swaying lightly. "Did something happen, my lord?"
"Nothing important," I said, though my tone was drier than sandpaper. "Just realizing this world's reward system isn't exactly generous."
She pouted slightly, her lips forming that seductive curve. "Then I shall make sure not to steal your kills, Alastor-sama. Though…" her voice dipped lower, playful, "I still find the idea of sharing them quite romantic."
I gave her a sidelong look and sighed again. "You'd find a bloodbath romantic."
She giggled behind her hand, clearly taking that as praise.
---
The two of us walked through the remains of what used to be New York City. The sun was a dim red disc behind thick, smoky clouds. Every building we passed was riddled with claw marks, melted metal, and the occasional bloodied handprint.
It was quiet, almost too quiet. Which meant one thing: the real monsters of this world weren't the zombies.
After a while, Shalltear spoke again. "My lord, it is nearly dark. Shall we rest for the night? There's a hotel over there." She gestured toward a crumbling skyscraper in the distance. "If you permit, I could use Fortress Magic to create something more… suitable for your comfort."
I stopped and turned toward her. "No."
She blinked, surprised. "No?"
I nodded. "Fortress is too flashy. A massive glowing fortress appearing out of thin air in the middle of this dead city will attract attention—and I'd rather not announce myself just yet."
"But, my lord—"
"It's also a waste of mana," I interrupted gently. "A fortress is overkill when all we need is a place to rest. Besides, we can just reinforce a building with basic wards. We'll be fine."
Shalltear frowned, clearly displeased with the idea of sleeping anywhere less than royal-quality luxury. But she didn't argue. Instead, she gave a delicate nod. "As you wish, Alastor-sama. I shall prepare a clean area inside that hotel."
"Good."
She floated off gracefully, her parasol reappearing in her hand as she descended toward the half-collapsed building.
---
I stood still for a moment, gazing at the broken skyline. The silence here was deceptive—there was movement beneath it, like something waiting to emerge.
The system had confirmed this was the Marvel Zombie World, but it hadn't told me when in the timeline I'd arrived.
That was a problem.
If Wanda was still around—and not yet completely lost to madness—then she was the key to this world's collapse.
Did she become Queenof Death? A Scarlet Witch driven insane by hunger and grief, devouring everything, warping reality itself.
If I confronted her now, I'd draw too much attention.
I needed to stay low for now. Build up resources, earn more Quest Coins.
"…Still," I muttered, eyes narrowing as I looked up at the cloudy sky. "If I want to do anything meaningful here, I'll have to deal with her eventually."
Wanda Maximoff.
A broken god in human form.
~~~
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