Okami Wa Nemuranai - Chapter 16.9-10

Dante is a budding young man who has the dreams and hopes of entering society with his own skills, independent of the help of family and friends.

As a small-time app developer, he eventually tries to jailbreak his new phone when a malfunction occurs, and his phone swallows him into a wormhole.

On the other side, Dante appears in an alleyway of a bustling city... Avalon!

This futuristic city leaves him dumbfounded until he is prompted by his phone which has now merged into his body that he can travel between two universes, Earth and the Eternal Universe.

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“H-Haru.... please... go...”In the midst of the sudden and ongoing Apocalypse, which had turned their lives into a complete hell, Haru embraced his loved one amidst the sadness and despair, watching helplessly as her bitten neck turned black.The person who meant the world to him was turning into a zombie, and he felt helpless to save her.“Why... Why... Why...” Tears fell as he held her tight, not wanting to let go. He was afraid, not of death or turning into something else, but afraid of losing her once more.Yet, amongst tears and desperation, a bit of unexpected hope appeared out for Haru.[Ting! Ting! Ting!][System has now finally initialized!!][Assigning a designated Class suited for the User!!][3][2][1][Congratulations! You acquired the EX Class – Zombie’s Husbando!!][First Quest – Choose a Zombie to be your Waifu!]

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”

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