This is my first time writing it's a new experience it's mainly for fun so if you have any suggestions or ideas for where the story should go share it with me. I did use AI to help with grammar and spelling but I wrote everything so the plot and tone is all my work.
I already have some ideas for the future of this story but I don't want to spoil to much but something I can tell is this will be a harem.
If the chosen harem member has a husband or boyfriend they will be written out of the story I don't care this is a fanfic if my MC doesn't move with his own interest in mind first then what's the point.
To end off this little rant we might see world evolution low tier zombies can only take you so far. So I might introduce umbrella corp as the main antagonist if you think that's a good idea let me know so I can start mapping out the plot. Thanks for reading!!!
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Morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the presidential suite, washing the room in gold.
King Sukehiro woke slowly.
Not to an alarm.
Not to noise.
But because instinct told him it was time.
He lay still for a moment, eyes open, staring at the ceiling as his senses calibrated. The city below was alive—muffled traffic, distant voices, the low hum of life continuing as if nothing could ever stop it.
Then he felt it.
Weight.
Warmth.
A body pressed against his chest.
King tilted his head down.
Miku Yuuki lay sprawled half on top of him, one leg hooked over his thigh, arms wrapped around his torso like she was afraid he might vanish if she loosened her grip. Her light orange hair spilled across his chest, soft and faintly scented with shampoo.
She was still asleep.
Her expression was peaceful in a way King knew wouldn't last forever—not in this world.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
It's been six months since then.
Night in Tokonosu City was loud in the way only a city pretending to be peaceful could be.
Neon lights reflected off rain-slick pavement. The air smelled faintly of oil, cigarette smoke, and cheap alcohol drifting out of half-lit bars tucked into narrow streets. Traffic hummed a few blocks away, distant but constant—proof that the world was still moving, still alive.
Miku Yuuki ran anyway.
Her breath came out in sharp, uneven gasps, chest burning, legs screaming for mercy as her shoes slapped against the pavement. She didn't dare look back again. She'd already made that mistake once.
They were still there.
Three sets of footsteps echoed behind her, heavy and careless, unafraid of being heard.
"Oi—don't run!" one of them shouted, laughing like this was a game.
Her heart pounded harder.
She hadn't meant to take the shortcut. She never did. But Shido's text had come earlier than usual—come now—and she'd been flustered, distracted, stupid. The alley entrance had seemed harmless enough at first.
Now it felt like a trap closing in.
Her foot caught on something—cracked concrete, a raised edge, she didn't know—and suddenly the world tilted.
Miku screamed as she fell forward.
She braced for the impact.
Instead, she hit something warm. Solid. Unmoving.
Strong arms caught her effortlessly, stopping her fall like gravity itself had been interrupted.
For a second, she couldn't breathe.
Then she looked up.
The man standing in front of her didn't make sense.
He was tall—no, towering. Easily over six and a half feet, broad shoulders filling the alley's narrow space. His skin was a deep tan, smooth and unblemished, and long white hair spilled down to his shoulders like moonlight made solid.
Amethyst eyes looked down at her, sharp and focused—but not cruel.
Not panicked.
Just… calm.
He wore a tailored black suit, the kind she'd only ever seen on TV or rich businessmen passing through the city. It looked absurdly out of place in this alley.
Yet somehow, it felt like everything else was out of place instead.
"You alright?" the man asked.
His voice was low, steady. Not rushed. Not angry.
Miku stared.
For half a heartbeat, she forgot she was being chased.
Behind her, the footsteps stopped.
"Well damn," one of the men muttered. "Didn't think she'd find herself a bodyguard."
Miku flinched. Reality snapped back into place.
She twisted in the man's arms, panic flooding her chest. "Please—! They—!"
"I know," the man said calmly.
He didn't look away from the three thugs now blocking the alley's entrance.
They were typical local muscle—cheap jackets, bad posture, the kind of men who thought numbers made them invincible. One of them cracked his knuckles. Another licked his teeth.
"Hand her over," the leader said. "This doesn't concern you."
The man glanced down at Miku.
"Go stand behind me," he said gently.
She hesitated for half a second—then obeyed.
The moment she moved, his entire demeanor shifted.
The warmth vanished.
The air felt heavier.
He took a single step forward, placing himself squarely between her and them.
Up close, the thugs finally noticed details they'd missed at first glance.
The way his shoulders rolled slightly, loose and ready.
The way his gaze didn't flicker—not even once.
The way he stood like someone who had never doubted the outcome of a fight.
"Look," one thug scoffed, trying to sound tough, "you don't know who you're dealing with—"
The man shrugged out of his suit jacket mid-sentence.
Fabric slid off his shoulders, revealing thick arms beneath his dress shirt. He folded the jacket neatly, set it aside, then began rolling up his sleeves.
The sound of fabric tightening around muscle echoed strangely loud in the alley.
That's when fear crept in.
"Last chance," the man said quietly.
The leader sneered, pulling a knife. "You think you're some kinda hero?"
The man stepped forward.
His fist moved first.
A punch straight into the nose of the first thug, dropping him instantly.
The second thug rushed him in a panic.
A knee slammed into his ribs, followed by an elbow that sent him sprawling.
The third tried to circle behind—
He pivoted smoothly, drove a heel into his thigh, then finished with a punch to the jaw.
Silence fell.
Three bodies lay groaning on the pavement.
The man exhaled slowly, like he'd just finished stretching.
Miku stood frozen behind him, hands shaking.
He turned back to her.
"Did they touch you?" he asked.
She shook her head quickly. "N-no…"
"Good."
He retrieved his jacket and shrugged it back on, adjusting the cuffs like he hadn't just dismantled three grown men.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
Miku realized she was crying.
Before she could stop herself, she clutched the back of his suit jacket, fingers digging into the fabric.
"Please don't leave," she whispered.
He paused.
Then, gently, he placed a hand on her head.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said.
Violence wasn't new to King Sukehiro.
Pain wasn't either.
In his previous life, pain had been currency.
Sweat-soaked gyms. Broken knuckles. Split lips. Early mornings and late nights chasing something people called glory but felt more like survival.
The UFC had been brutal—but honest.
You knew where danger stood.
That night in Miami had been different.
The hotel room smelled like expensive cologne and steam from the shower. King hummed quietly as he washed his hair, already mentally running through fight scenarios for the next day.
Then he remembered.
Shampoo.
"Damn it," he muttered, turning off the water.
He stepped out of the bathroom.
And froze.
Two men stood in the room.
One by the door. One near the bed.
Both tense. Both wrong.
Training kicked in before thought.
King lunged.
His fist smashed into the closer man's gut. The second punch shattered his nose. The man collapsed choking, gurgling.
The second intruder backed up fast.
"Gun!" his mind screamed—
Too late.
The shot was deafening.
White-hot pain tore through his chest.
King staggered—but didn't fall.
He turned.
His childhood sweetheart stood in the doorway.
Her face was pale.
"I—I didn't know they'd bring a gun," she cried. "They said they'd just scare you—"
The second intruder fled.
The first scrambled up and ran.
Silence followed.
King collapsed against the bed, blood soaking the carpet.
She stared at him.
Hesitated.
Then grabbed his phone and dialed emergency services.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
And ran.
As his vision dimmed, King didn't feel rage.
He felt clarity.
So that's how it ends.
There was no pain when he opened his eyes again.
No body either.
King floated in a vast, colorless space, awareness intact but untethered. In every direction, layers of reality shimmered like overlapping reflections.
A presence approached.
Not physically—conceptually.
"King Sukehiro," a voice echoed, calm and impossibly vast. "You left so many desires unfulfilled."
A figure coalesced before him.
Humanoid, but wrong. Its shape shifted subtly, like it couldn't quite decide what form to wear.
"Who are you?" King asked.
"I am ROB," the being replied. "Administrator, Custodian, and sometimes Problem solver."
King crossed nonexistent arms. "Am I dead?"
"Obviously."
"Figures."
ROB studied him. "You are remarkably composed."
King shrugged. "Panicking won't change anything."
ROB let out a small sigh. "You're right about that plus it's better this way I don't have to forcefully calm you down."
"So I actually picked a random soul because I need something from that soul," ROB continued. "I oversee multiple narrative worlds. One of them is failing."
King's eyes sharpened. "Which one?"
ROB waved a hand.
A familiar world appeared—zombies, high school students, chaos.
Highschool of the Dead.
King laughed.
"You've got to be kidding."
"The designated protagonist perished prematurely trying to save his girlfriend and ended up bitten," ROB said. "The antagonist assumed the protagonist role. The world will collapse within a few years surviving past my earliest estimated destruction mainly due to help from main female characters like Saeko, Shizuka, Rika, Saya, and Rae along with a few others like the mothers of Saya and Rae two strong female supporting characters."
"And you want me to fix it."
"Yes."
"What's in it for me?"
ROB's smile widened.
"A new life, power, and opportunity to be more than just yourself."
King considered then smiled.
He thought of betrayal.
Of blood on hotel carpet.
Of dying alone.
Then he thought of zombies and beautiful women.
"I'm in."
"Ok great with this transmigration you get three wishes restricted to abilities and bloodlines from the multiple worlds under my control."
King looked through the list seeing different fictional worlds. One Piece and Demon Slayer instantly stood out. One Piece had a bloodline he really wanted being the anime fanboy he was. The bloodline may not be peak level in One Piece but in HOTD no one is touching him. Demon Slayer was mainly a technique thing—everyone knows breathing styles versus zombies is basically a guaranteed kill. The last world was another apocalypse story but the protagonist had a gift King felt would be useful in HOTD as well.
He proceeded to provide his wishes.
"First wish I want to be reborn a Lunarian like King from One Piece. It's overkill for a low tier zombie world but I'm mainly only after the looks and the wings. The rest like fire control is just a bonus."
ROB didn't say a word. He just nodded.
"My second wish is for knowledge of all the breathing styles from Demon Slayer."
Again, ROB nodded.
"My last wish is for the dimensional space I saw one of your protagonists use in your natural disaster apocalypse world with all the add-ons as well. I want a villa, a separate storage warehouse, farming land for crops, farming land for animals, and a lake for seafood and fish. Lastly robots to work the land, take care of the animals, clean the house, and organize the warehouse."
ROB nodded again and smiled.
"All agreed. You will have six months of prep time. I look forward to your future also your wings will be retractable."
Coming back to his senses, King freshened up before calling room service to bring breakfast for two.
He stood there staring down at the city remembering his last six months.
The first four months were mainly spent getting acquainted with the characters in the plot.
The Monday following the Miku incident he went to Fujimi Academy to apply for a job. Students were on winter break so new staff joining wouldn't be a problem. He applied for a position as assistant gym teacher with Teshima keeping his job.
King also volunteered to take over managing combat related clubs which included wrestling, kendo, sojutsu, karate, and archery, which he personally added even though it wasn't directly combat related.
His goal was to network and scout good subordinates both men and women.
Saeko stood out in kendo. Rae in sojutsu. Both trained by skilled parents.
Miku followed him like a shadow. She joined kendo, becoming Saeko's junior.
Shizuka and Kyoko became lunch companions.
Rika entered his orbit through Shizuka.
Saya became his club secretary. Her tsundere personality was on full display.
Kohta was recruited for archery and asked to visit a gym to lose weight.
Takashi was ignored—for now.
After summer kicked in, resource gathering went into overdrive.
Livestock. Seeds. Seafood. Fish. Medicine bought directly from manufacturers.
Everything went into his pocket dimension.
Robots planted crops, organized storage, maintained the villa.
His last purchase was a large six-wheeled off-road vehicle with a reinforced body, bulletproof glass, and puncture-proof tires.
The knock came.
King opened the door wearing a robe and slides, accepting breakfast.
Moments later, Miku emerged from the bedroom, stretching sleep from her eyes.
"Welcome to the land of the living," King said calmly.
She scoffed. "You're annoying."
"Hurry up and eat, then get dressed," he replied. "We've got unfinished business today."
Outside, the city remained peaceful.
Unaware.
For now.