Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain Chapter 124: A Change Of Heart: Rozalia Got Powerful

"Move, all of you. Try to find any vehicles that are still usable. We need to get out of this hell as fast as possible."

"Yes, Boss."

The n shouted in unison and imdiately sprang into action. It was obvious they had been a team for a long ti—used to working together. Their movents were swift, efficient, and well-coordinated.

As for the one they called "the Boss," he stood quietly beside , his expression unreadable.

Of course, I didn’t miss the face of that disgusting man—the way he stared at with anger, lust, and hatred. Every vile thought was written plainly across his features.

That look... damn it.

I really want to kill that bastard.

I want nothing more than to choke him with these very hands. I’ve never felt such murderous intent toward anyone before... well, except toward the novel’s so-called heroine Mary, and her idiot partner.

But—

For the first ti since I ca to this world, I realized how weak I truly was.

It’s not that I didn’t know.

Maybe I just chose to ignore it—silently.

Because deep down, I wanted to be useful to the only man I loved, the man I couldn’t live without.

Because I wanted to be strong.

So I ignored my weakness and convinced myself of the opposite.

I ignored the fact that from the very first day I arrived in this world, I had been protected—protected—by others.

I told myself that my laziness, my refusal to learn how to fight, to defend myself, to use weapons, to battle zombies... all of it was because I needed to stay close to Cassel and protect him.

But protect him how, exactly?

I did nothing.

When I really thought about it, Cassel did everything.

He even handled both the hero and the heroine on his own, defeating them every single ti.

Even during the past few months—when Cassel made a na for himself, worked tirelessly to complete missions, and wiped out zombies—I was nothing.

Nothing more than a pretty accessory he carried with him. Sothing he protected, fed, and dressed nicely.

I am... nothing more than a coward who relies on him, yet dares to say out loud—and even believe—that she’s protecting her beautiful villain.

How exactly did you protect him, Rosalia?

How?

"Hey, girl. Have you gone stupid from losing too much blood?"

The Boss waved his hand in front of my face, snapping out of my thoughts.

I looked at him and found him staring straight at , intensely. I frowned, but he clearly didn’t care.

"While the others are finding us transportation, tell a thing or two about the man you serve."

"The man I... serve?"

Honestly, I was almost shocked. What nonsense was this smiling bastard talking about?

For the first ti, I found myself missing Henry’s smile. At least Henry knew his boundaries. He wasn’t revolting and disgusting like these people.

"I don’t serve anyone," I replied calmly. I knew that bastard wouldn’t stop pestering unless he heard an answer.

But my response clearly wasn’t to his liking. He frowned and said mockingly,

"Oh? And you expect to believe that? A girl like you—no powers, no usefulness. If you’re not serving him with your body, then why are you treated so well? Why does he care so much about your life and safety?"

This bastard... does he really think everyone is trash like them?

Fueled by anger, I spoke what was in my heart with chilling calm.

"Do you think everyone is a bastard like you? Cassel is better than all of you. He doesn’t care about usefulness. As long as you’re loyal and treat him kindly, he responds the sa way. And he doesn’t play the filthy gas that live in your head—so don’t think about him in such a disgusting way. You’re polluting his image."

"Oh? Look at that. We’ve got ourselves a fanatic admirer."

I didn’t say anything after that.

Because, quite simply, it was true.

In any case, the conversation ca to an end there. I stopped caring about anything that man said and focused instead on finding a way to escape—to get to Cassel. To save myself, by myself.

I don’t want to wait for Cassel to co save .

Because I’ve made up my mind.

From now on, I’ll try to beco better.

To adapt to the cruelty of this world.

To defend myself with my own strength.

To improve myself so my thoughts won’t remain empty fantasies with no way to beco reality.

I won’t remain the old Rosalia.

The Rosalia who hated how her mother treated her, yet stayed—even when she was grown and able to leave that house.

Even as an adult, she feared her mother while still trying to earn her love.

Even as an adult, she acted timid and weak, staying silent when bullied.

Even as an adult... even when she was capable and strong.

I’ll show them a completely new version of Rosalia.

A version that brings destruction and terror to the hearts of her enemies.

That’s for another day.

For now, we need to escape.

I glanced left and right inside the vehicle.

Since the team had more than seven people, they split into two cars.

Naturally, I ended up in the sa car as the Boss. And probably because of that brute—despite the Boss clearly disliking him—he still allowed him to ride in the sa vehicle.

I wasn’t idle during those past minutes.

I listened carefully to their conversations and thought quickly. From that, I learned almost all of their abilities.

It was clear the Boss had dual powers: teleportation and fire.

Two of his n possessed earth-type abilities. Another had water powers, though from their conversation, it seed he couldn’t use them offensively.

The rest had no abilities at all—but judging by their behavior, they were forr soldiers, which made them extrely dangerous.

Yes. They were military.

Honestly, at the end of the world, it doesn’t matter who you used to be. Most people, just to survive, beco villains.

That’s why I always refused to label Cassel as "the villain" in the novel.

Don’t make laugh.

Are there really angels in a world ruled by darkness and death?

The car moved slowly. Zombies clung to it at every turn, dragging the speed down even more.

I could jump out easily. The zombies outside posed no real threat to .

The problem was timing.

I needed to escape at a mont when everyone was completely distracted.

I wished a high-level zombie would attack the car and flip it over. That way, I could escape easily while they dealt with it.

It was the only idea I managed to co up with after a long ti of thinking.

An idea that rooted itself deep in my mind—and my soul.

An idea I desperately, fiercely wished would co true.

I wish a powerful zombie would attack.

I wish a powerful zombie would attack.

I wish it would—

That thought, that sentence, kept repeating over and over in my head.

I lost count of how long it went on.

I don’t know how much ti passed while I was thinking that way.