
Yumi Kisaragi never asked to be a hero. She was just a retro arcade part-timer, surviving shift to shift and saving her quarters for snack runs. But when the outbreak hit her district, she didn’t run. She rewired. Within hours, her favorite pinball machine had become a makeshift bomb shelter, and a vending machine coil had become part of her first detonation rig. The girl known for high scores quickly became infamous for high-impact takedowns.
What started as survival turned into spectacle. Yumi began tagging every cleared zone with red graffiti: “INSERT COIN TO CONTINUE.” Her custom explosives, cobbled together from fireworks, consoles, and old tech, didn’t just destroy the undead — they demoralized them. The chaos she unleashed was neon-bright, theatrical, and just a little unhinged. Survivors whispered her name. The squad knew her as Cherry Bomb.
Under the bravado, though, there’s a flicker of something else. Loss? Loneliness? Or maybe just the memory of who she was before the world went sideways. She just reloads, rewires, and walks into the next blast zone like it’s the final boss fight.