In the Apocalypse, I Ran Away Pregnant, and the Zombie King Chased Me to Nurse the Baby

In the tenth year of the apocalypse, I found a baby.

She smiled at me, showing two tiny baby teeth.

The next second, my detector went haywire: SSS-rank infection index, 100% fatality rate, airborne transmission.

I closed my eyes and waited to die.

Ten minutes passed. I was still alive.

Another ten minutes passed, and the zombie king from next door rushed over, carefully handing me a bottle of warmed milk.

"She's hungry," the zombie king said, scratching the rotting half of his face a little sheepishly. "I warmed it with my body heat."

Me: ???

Later, I learned that this little one could evolve zombies, awaken superpowers in ability users, and make the big shots at every base fight tooth and nail over her.

And me, an utterly ordinary former kindergarten teacher, just wanted to teach her:

First, don't bite Mommy.

Second, don't use Uncle Zombie as a mount.

Third, and most importantly:

In a world where everyone wants to eat you (literally), how do you live with style?