What?! I Became the Zombie Beauty in the Villain’s Arms – CH50

Chapter 50: I Can Accept It

The moment the prepared meal was served, Pei Xiqing couldn’t wait to taste it.

Duan Xiaolin’s culinary craftsmanship was far superior to anything her mind had simulated. The flavors were meticulously calibrated, rich without being overbearing, and clean enough to easily stand the test of her modern human palate.

She idly tracked the man’s profile between every bite.

Duan Xiaolin took a refined porcelain ladle, smoothly placing it into her bowl before partitioning half a ladle of clear broth across her rice. Keeping his head slightly lowered, his green eyes monitored her face. “Does the flavor profile fail to align with your preferences?”

“Negative.”

The seasoning of the courses wasn’t aggressively sparse, nor was it saturated with heavy military spices. They carried the exact warmth of the traditional, home-cooked dishes she had consistently craved during her intense university shifts back in her previous world.

Pei Xiqing took a careful sip of the warm broth, her shoulders relaxing. “My internal index registers an immense amount of satisfaction.”

She paused, her gaze drifting toward the amber kitchen lights as she murmuring softly, “Back when my schedule was entirely packed on set, my receptors desperately craved a meal of this caliber. Even during my childhood study blocks, I consistently wanted to return to a kitchen that smelled like this. I never calculated that my timeline would finally intercept this exact warmth inside an apocalyptic stronghold.”

She had instinctively prepared to launch into a deep, heavy lamentation regarding her agonizing past life—detailing her exhausting years navigating the cutthroat entertainment industry as a desperate minor actor, grinding beneath the heels of powerful executives like a corporate slave after graduation. But the exact millisecond her eyes tracked upward, she collided with the man’s unblinking, silent gaze, and her survival instincts violently flagged an anomaly in the data. “My vocal receptors shouldn’t have authorized that transcript, correct?”

She suddenly recalled that the original owner’s background sheet contained absolutely zero records of a modern education or a professional acting career.

The man merely held his position. He couldn’t possibly possess data regarding her true, transmigrated identity.

Duan Xiaolin offered a slow, level nod. “The transcript deviates from my files. My database strictly logs your departure from the S1 perimeter, and the underlying catalyst for that migration remains tethered to your physical entanglement with an external male asset.”

An absolute self-inflicted strike, she groaned internally.

Whenever the dialogue drifted toward the original owner’s messy interpersonal ledger, an intense wave of borrowed guilt compromised her composure.

She possessed zero methodology to explain to a high-ranking human commander that her current consciousness shared absolutely no biological alignment with the deceptive traitor who had previously occupied this physical frame, or that the illicit schemes executed by the original host were entirely disconnected from her own moral code.

If her vocal receptors broadcasted the concept of a transmigration matrix, not a single rational entity in this fortress would accept the data.

Pei Xiqing aggressively channeled a massive mouthful of rice into her jaw, forcing herself to swallow the contents before steadying her voice. “Mhm… the historical record contains that entry, but my board requires a separate data transfer to update your parameters.”

Following a brief window of cognitive hesitation, she calculated that issuing a preventative tactical warning to the administrator was her most optimal play.

She needed to lock down the boundaries now, preventing his possessive instincts from assuming she was actively running a deceptive bluff against his board later.

“Vocalize the parameters. My receptors are synchronized to your frequency,” he murmured, his long fingers smoothly drawing a sleek leather chair out from the counter, sitting down directly adjacent to her coordinates.

Pei Xiqing organized her vocabulary for a quiet moment. “When my asset sheet was embedded within the S1 registry, my subsequent expulsion wasn’t exclusively triggered because my line intersected with a single male asset. Even before my timeline breached their perimeter, my history was saturated with intense ‘grudges’ and volatile conflicts tracking across a massive demographic of faction leaders.”

Having released the transcript, she boldly trained her visual sensors onto his eyes to audit his real-time reaction.

Duan Xiaolin’s statuesque features remained completely unbothered, maintaining his usual aura of pristine, unshakeable calm. She actively scanned his pupils for a microscopic trace of judgment or clinical disgust, but the administrator merely let out a soft, dark smirk. “Mhm. My database had already finalized that calculation.”

“Your system already logged the data?!”

Her jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening.

“My analytical models easily derived the probability,” he murmured smoothly. “The survival index for a female asset navigating the wild zones past the frontier walls is exponentially more grueling than the parameters governing male ability users.”

He reached out, his wrist moving with fluid precision as he placed an optimized cut of seared beef onto her tray. “Executing a sequence of illicit or non-compliant actions against your own will is a standard survival mechanism within the hot zones.”

It appeared his internal tracking had already mapped out the entire visceral landscape of the wasteland without requiring her processor to supply a single explicit file.

Pei Xiqing let out a long, ragged breath, the crushing weight of her paranoia lifting.

Thank God her vocal receptors hadn’t deployed a corrupted lie to alter his ledger; her honesty had successfully navigated the boundary.

The administrator adjusted his glasses, his voice dropping to a level purr. “My office classifies this data under your sovereign personal privacy. Provided your system chooses to compress the file, my trackers will never deploy an interrogation sequence against the metrics.”

“Thank you, Brother Duan,” Pei Xiqing whispered, her gaze softening. “The singular reason my line withheld the data previously was because my core metrics refused to authorize a trust parameter for an external asset.”

“Has the calibration shifted? Does your system authorize the parameter now?”

“My core authorizes a minor fraction of trust for your board tonight.”

The man let out a low, genuinely amused chuckle.

Pei Xiqing’s face flushed. “Deactivate the smirk. My vocal receptors are broadcasting absolute ground truth.”

“Affirmative. The metric is exceptionally optimal.”

“It represents an incredibly rare milestone for my consciousness to allocate trust to a human entity.”

“Then it appears my administrative overwatch must maximize its efforts to expand the allocation,” he murmured.

As he spoke, his dark green eyes locked straight onto her profile, an ancient, hyper-dense wave of raw possessiveness flashing beneath the perfect surface of his calm.

Pei Xiqing’s long lashes fluttered frantically in response, the sudden, violent acceleration of her pulse completely refusing to stabilize under the weight of his gaze.

“My system is executing this disclosure exclusively to ensure your ledger is perfectly updated,” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave as she forced her gaze to remain steady. “To guarantee my physical survival across these past five calendar shifts, my core was fully prepared to implement whatever tactical leverage necessary—systematically exploiting every single asset and weaponized entity surrounding my grid. I do not operate as some… unversed, ignorant maiden, and my biology is entirely separate from whatever pristine, innocent stereotype your mind has constructed.”

She saw absolutely zero reason to harbor shame over her survival mechanics.

Bravely facing your own human ambitions, acknowledging your hard parameters for resources, and executing a rigorous grind to extract what your timeline requires—and if a particular corridor hits a deadlock, seamlessly calculating an alternative route through the dark—that was basic nature.

Back in her past life, she had climbed to the absolute upper echelons of a deeply volatile entertainment industry; her consciousness had meticulously audited the unvarnished rot governing interpersonal relationships.

If an asset desired to survive the circle, their system had to seamlessly adapt to the underlying physics of the game.

Those deep, dangerous green eyes continued to dissect her features from the shadows. “My board is fully configured to accept your presence, regardless of what dark variable your history introduces,” he stated flatly.

Pei Xiqing’s lips curved into a soft, brilliant smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “The local rumors indicate every single tier of the civilian population inside these walls yields to your directives without a microsecond of resistance. To their processors, Franlun represents the ultimate sovereign entity that manufactures the regulations and enforces the baseline order. The scale of your authority is staggering.”

The man’s sharp eyebrow arched, his fingers maintaining a steady, clinical cadence as he refilled her tray.

“The architecture of Franlun is neither inherently benevolent nor malicious,” he noted.

“Mhm, my intellect can parse that calculation. But your execution squads consistently prioritize the correct structural outcome. Even if your external reputation or your judicial methods run aggressively extreme, my focus registers the performance as remarkable.”

“What precise perception does your mind hold regarding my personal rank?”

“The variable defies a binary definition,” Pei Xiqing murmured, leaning her chin on her palm. “If an asset shifts their geometric perspective across different sectors, their sensory feedback will manufacture entirely separate deductions, ultimately driving completely divergent behavioral paths.”

Human biology was never locked into a simple, monochrome palette of absolute black or absolute white.

His thin lips curved into a microscopic, satisfied line. “Clear the ration tray.”

By the time the dinner protocol terminated, Pei Xiqing’s metabolic meters were entirely optimized, her stomach feeling impossibly full.

Dropping her gaze toward the floorboards, she spotted Xiaobai still aggressively locked in a physical battle with a massive, cleared beef bone near her boots. She smoothly filled a wide titanium basin with clean, filtered water, sliding it toward his coordinates. “The moment your consumption cycle hits zero, transition your frame directly to the rest sector. Refrain from generating an erratic acoustic frequency during the night.”

The reanimated Husky paused, tilting its armored skull as if its primitive processors were attempting to parse her vocal commands, before returning to gnaw the marrow, its tail executing a slow, heavy click against the stone.

Pei Xiqing remained anchored by his side for several minutes, waiting until her internal digestive clocks indicated her metabolic load had stabilized, before marching back into the main suite.

The exact second her heels cleared the corridor, the master bathroom door slid open, and she stepped directly into Duan Xiaolin’s path. The administrator had just executed his hygiene shift, his towering frame wrapped in clean, minimalist loungewear. The loose, unbuttoned collar of his shirt completely exposed the dense, powerful muscle mass of his chest, forcing her visual sensors to involuntarily lock onto his skin.

Pei Xiqing frantically pivoted her torso to the flank, clearing the lane for his stride.

But as their shoulders brushed in the narrow passage, a sudden, heavy restriction locked around her wrist, halting her motor functions.

Pei Xiqing blinked, her pulse spiking. “What variable disrupted your path?”

“Does your system require a decontamination shower tonight?” he asked, his voice low.

“Affirmative. The shift load demands it.”

“The infrastructure contains a singular sleeping matrix,” he murmured, his eyes scanning her face. “Secure the interior bedroom for your timeline.”

Pei Xiqing hesitated. “What coordinates will your own rest cycle occupy?”

“My office will anchor the leather sofa.”

“Are the domestic linens in the closet sufficient to buffer the temperature?”

“The allocation matches the requirements.”

She adjusted her windbreaker. “Ensure your system doesn’t absorb a thermal chill.”

“Acknowledged.”

Pei Xiqing gave a brief, compliant nod, retrieved her freshly purchased apparel parcels, and stepped past the threshold of the automated bathroom.

The air inside the tiled vault was heavily saturated with the residual, humid warmth of his shower shift. Sliding the reinforced door shut, she stared blankly into the polished mirror, her visual sensors tracking the deep, feverish crimson flushing across her blurred reflection.

She executed a rigorous ten-minute hygiene routine, before stripping out of her weathered clothes and sliding her limbs into one of the fresh casual lounge sets she had procured under Long Yan’s guidance. Stepping barefoot onto the dense wool carpet, she cleared the stall.

She had purposefully selected a set of seamless athletic undergarments to anchor her baseline, having dried the fabric inside the room’s high-velocity thermal dryer unit the exact second the transaction had cleared the boutique.

The architecture of the loungewear was deceptively minimalist—configured with hyper-conservative long sleeves and heavy utility trousers—yet the structural blend of the synthetic fabric was impossibly fluid, sliding across her skin with the weightless, liquid comfort of premium satin.

With the slightest shift in her physical posture, the thin fabric seamlessly mapped and outlined every single elegant curve of her anatomy with pristine legibility.

During the procurement shift, her processors had been locked in a prolonged conflict, wildly oscillating between this specific light set and an alternative dark palette, until Duan Xiaolin had smoothly entered her selection interface, authorizing this precise code.

The diagnostic feedback was flawless; though she had to concede the dark set carried separate tactical advantages.

Pei Xiqing deposited her soiled windbreaker into the automated decontamination drum before stepping to the vanity sink to clear her dental arrays.

Having finalized her evening maintenance, she pushed past the bathroom threshold. The administrator was lounging back against the deep leather of the sofa, a steaming porcelain cell of black tea resting near his fingers while a dense mountain of high-clearance judicial files anchored his flank.

The exact second her boots entered his sector, the man refused to raise his eyes from the data stream. He remained entirely concentrated on auditing the treason logs, his features a frozen wall of detached, unapproachable administrative dominance.

It was only when her frame executed a smooth pivot, entering the secure threshold of the master bedroom, that his heavy eyelids slowly lifted.

His piercing green eyes tracked the movement, permanently anchoring against the elegant, half-bound mass of her dark hair as a slow trail of moisture dripped down her locks.

The micro-beads of water tracked along the smooth skin of her cheek, gliding past the elegant bone structure of her collarbone before bleeding straight into the silk fabric of her shirt, rendering the linen completely translucent against her chest.

The man’s unblinking gaze methodically caressed every single raw inch of her exposed anatomy, before his fingers slowly, deliberately reached down to extract a heavy tactical cigarette from his case.

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