Descent into the Bunker and a Familiar Face
Why did this person yank the door open with all their might the moment the lock released? "Ngh...!! Why won't it open...!!" But the door didn't budge an inch, despite how it looked.
How desperate must I have been for doubts like 'What if this is a trap?' to creep into my head?
...No, that can't be. I pushed down the growing anxiety in real time and gave it another pull. "Kh, heh, how weak have I gotten...!! Please open...!!"
It took about five minutes just to get the door open. Creeeak-. Finally, it was wide enough to squeeze my body through. Fortunately, the inside was structured so I could easily close it behind me.
"Urp...!" I'd overexerted myself so much that my stomach twisted, but it didn't matter. I'd made it in—that was the important part.
With that thought, I took a step forward. "Eek."
The moment my foot first touched the bunker floor, a chill rose up. It was probably partly because of the rain, but even accounting for that, the cool sensation permeating my body was striking.
When I naturally placed a hand on the wall, an even colder energy seeped in. "This isn't a stone chamber...."
No wonder it had felt chilly earlier. This wasn't a simple stone passage. It was far sturdier and more solid—made entirely of metal.
And then, as I walked further down the passage...
...Rumble rumble rumble-.
"Eek." The sudden vibrations around me made me fall flat on my butt.
"Wh-what's happening?" But the stinging in my rear was short-lived. Something even more unbelievable happened next.
Rumble rumble rumble-!
"W-wait, no way..." The entire passage was descending. Just like an elevator.
It sank deeper and deeper into the earth, smoothly enough that it must have been designed this way.
Thud-. A heavy sound announced our arrival. Sure enough, when I looked up, there was a front door standing alone.
"A front door...?" It was just like the ones from everyday life before everything went to hell.
Click-. The good news was that this one opened smoothly.
But when I peered inside, I swallowed hard. "Whoa..."
It was only natural, really. The fact that the lights were on from the entrance meant...
Plenty of electricity to go around. It was confirmation that I'd come to the right place.
"Um, h-hello...?" Leaving the sheer grandeur behind, I poked my head through the doorway.
No response came.
Tension coiling in my gut, I cautiously stepped inside—and an even more astonishing sight unfolded.
Th-this living room is the size of a soccer field!
It was exactly that: a massive living room beyond the hallway, complete with sleek modern furniture and a spotless kitchen. The facilities were just too good.
"...You've arrived?"
I'd been lost gawking at the living room when I sensed a presence. It came with a refined voice, and when I saw her, my eyes went wide.
"Stay right there for a moment."
The reason was simple. Sh-she looks like a doll...
She really did. Her porcelain-white skin and blonde hair practically glowed, but those sparkling pink eyes—wide and innocent—were especially beautiful.
And... No, what am I looking at on first sight? My gaze nearly drifted downward involuntarily.
Anyway, to sum it up: she was stunningly beautiful. But something felt off. ...Why does she look so familiar the more I stare?
Her face nagged at me, furrowing my brow deeper. But in this world? The odds of knowing someone in a bunker like this were basically zero.
Still, something kept bubbling up in my mind. "...Is there something on my face?"
She tilted her head at my intense staring. "Ah, n-no, nothing..."
Just as I tried to brush it off—Oh.
It hit me. The trigger was that hair tie holding her ponytail.
Back then, I was a second-year office worker at an ordinary company. Endless overtime and late nights were grinding me down, but I'd adapted enough to tough it out.
One day, a new hire joined our department: Yoon Yerin. She was twenty-three, same age as me.
As a total newbie, Yerin made mistakes constantly—three times a day, without fail. It was hell for me as her direct senior, but surprisingly, it wasn't all bad.
There was one reason for that. "I-I'm so sorry every time. Because of me..."
She seemed timid and cowed, yet she never truly shrank back. Even after getting chewed out this much, anyone else would have turned timid—but not her. The more I saw it, the more I wanted to emulate that resilience.
Half a year later, Yerin had transformed into a completely different person. No mistakes, no slip-ups—she was like a machine.
Positively speaking, she'd become an incredibly competent employee. But it also felt like the human touch had vanished. Especially how she only cared about work, work, work, no matter what.
"...Senior, you free tonight?"
Then one day, she suggested grabbing dinner. "If it's okay, I have something I want to talk about over drinks."
I was her direct senior, so we ate together occasionally since we were on somewhat friendly terms. But this late? With drinks? I had no clue what it could be.
...I nodded.
She always looked burdened with worries, and as her first junior, I didn't want to turn her down.
We ended up at a nice bar. "...Senior, do you have someone you're dating?"
Her first words broke the awkward silence, reeking of alcohol. I pretended not to hear at first, but she pressed, so I answered.
"...I see, you don't."
Yerin looked relieved for some reason. She scooted closer, closing the distance. I had no idea why she sat right next to me instead of across, but whatever—the drinks kept flowing.
"...Let's play a game."
Then, out of nowhere, she suggested a game: say whatever you really want to say, honestly.
"Truth is, it's my birthday today. But I'm always alone on birthdays. So if I were to spend it with someone, I wanted that first to be you, Senior."
When I asked why, she hung her head. "Because you've always listened to me from way back. I suck at talking, and I mess up at work too—it must be frustrating. But you never once ignored me."
"......"
"And—"
That's when Yerin nuzzled into my neck. "...Senior might not know, but I love your scent. A lot."
She paused, then pulled back. "...See? Even when I say stuff like this and get this close, you're always focused on me. That's why I like you."
It was a confession. Clear enough for even the densest person to get. That flush wasn't from the booze—it was the signal.
Yerin looked up at me as she said it. Her face was stunningly pretty, come to think of it. She'd always been popular.
So even if I wasn't paying attention before, in normal times, I probably would have accepted. Yeah, if things were normal.
"Wh-what did you say...?"
Her expression hardened the moment I responded. It made sense, really. I'd just told someone who'd mustered the courage to confess that I was quitting soon.
And not just quitting—I was moving away too. No wonder.
But I had no choice. My family couldn't even afford anything better than a semi-basement rental, and I was the only one to care for my critically ill grandma.
Moving to her rural home was the reason for resigning. "If that's it, I'll wait! I can wait as long as it takes...!"
...Sorry.
I left that drinking session behind and quit the company soon after. Dodging her calls afterward was harsh, but I truly had no time.
That was our last encounter. The hair tie I left on her desk before leaving was my first and final gift.
...Anyway, back to the present. To sum up:
One year ago, I quit my job. Grandma passed two months later. Overwhelmed by grief, I holed up like a hikikomori for nearly ten months...
Until the money ran out, I returned to that semi-basement, and lately—not only did I turn into a woman, but zombies showed up too.
And to top it off, Yoon Yerin was the Angel. Putting it all together, it was a string of absurd events.
"Your name."
"Uh, n-name..."
But right now, the only thing that mattered was staying in this bunker somehow. So I decided to keep the rest under wraps for now.
"...L-Lee So-yul."
I even tweaked my real name into a pseudonym while I was at it. "......"
"...Why are you looking at me like that?"
The moment I said it, Yerin tilted her head, staring like she'd seen someone familiar.
"It's nothing. I'm Yoon Yerin."
...So it really was her. "How old are you? You look young."
Yerin asked my age next. "Ah, I-I'm an adult. Twenty...four."
"Twenty-four..."
She stood abruptly after hearing that, went into a room, and came back with something.
"Then."
Click-.
"Want to take off your clothes first?"
"Eh? W-wait, wh-what's this all of a sudden...!"
It was an incredibly bewildering turn. She'd gone into the room and come back with a K2 rifle, of all things.
And not only that—she was aiming it at me, telling me to strip. "Don't worry. It's not for anything weird."
"Th-then why...!"
"Just take them off for now. Everything, down to your panties."
"......"
"You won't?"
"It's not that..."
...I've got nothing on underneath.
I squeezed my eyes shut and started undressing as ordered.