Zombie Apocalypse - Chapter 1887 Swore Never to Enter the City

Laviore Bailey—the ‘fake saintess’ who banished the innocent princess and stirred up bad blood to wage war.

She’s the villainess with a façade of a saintess.

“I love you. So just shut your mouth and die. Okay?”

But the moment her trusted lover chose her as a sacrifice to the demon, and she realized her father was behind the plan, she killed herself by swallowing poison.

It hurt. It was so painful that she could not even scream. But it was fine. Because she knew this was not the end.

“I will save you this time.”

Then, she came back for her second life. She was determined to rescue those who were unlucky because of her and restored her life back.

“You do whatever you want for the man in your dream.”

Demian said with a rough smile.

“I’ll also protect you the way I want to.”

After possessing the game’s villain, my goal was solely one thing –

To escape from this cursed game world.

[Embrace a death befitting a villain]

I failed on the first run.

But I resolved once more to escape this world…

“I missed you, Kyle.”

Yet the heroines who once loathed me began to plead for my affection.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

One night she gets drunk and mistakes the most well-known Mafia boss for a Host* and intends to sleep with him.