Apocalypse Villainess Transmigrates Into The Beastworld With Debt

(Hooray to reaching a hundred Chapters. That sure took a while, but we did get here, so cheers to that, hehe. Hope to see you on the two hundredth Chapter as well. Thank you for reading!)

​The fading mid-afternoon light was casting long, amber shadows across the stone floor. Hana was still securely anchored against Caspian’s broad chest, his massive arms wrapped around her waist with an immovable, protective pressure.

Kulu had somehow attached a monitor to her through a holographic instruction manual, the rhythmic beep... beep... of the monitor sounding constant and somewhat comforting.

​Hana squinted her eyes a little, and then her breathing settled.

"Hana, are you awake?" Caspian asked softly, worried about disturbing her first thing after she wakes up. She did not answer right away and let out another slow, heavy breath, her fingers instinctively dropping to press against the bump of her stomach.

She could feel it more clearly now, the life inside her. It was more vigorous than she imagined. And so warm. The little dragon inside gave a quiet thud—a steady pulse of pure excitement, and a tired smile touched her lips.

"You’re too tense, Caspian," Hana muttered, her voice gravelly from the deep sleep but entirely steady. "Loosen your grip. You’re squeezing my ribs."

The dragon king instantly went rigid, a sharp breath catching in his throat before he quickly, almost frantically, relaxed his massive arms.

"Hana... you’re awake. Truly awake? How is the pain? Do I need to call Kulu down to bring the thing again?"

"No," she said, her fingers remaining flat against her abdomen, savoring the solid, reassuring rhythm of the tiny dragon’s heartbeat. "The synth-flesh did its job. The tissue structural integrity is back to baseline, and I feel refreshed after that nap."

Plus, there was the quick healing metabolism from being marked by three powerful beasts, so she was more than okay.

She slowly pushed herself up from his chest, her joints popping slightly as she stretched.

Caspian didn’t let her go completely, keeping one large, warm palm hovering just millimeters from her back, ready to catch her if she faltered. But Hana didn’t falter. She stood up on her own two feet, her cold eyes scanning the interior of the cave.

Hana walked past the humming automated medical kit, heading deeper into the private quarters of the den to shed the ruined, blood-soaked white dress.

The cold fabric clung to her skin like a second layer of old rot, a disgusting reminder of how close she had come to slipping up.

​Using a basin of water that Caspian quickly heated up and a thick, sterile cloth, she began wiping away the dried blood from her skin. The synth-flesh foam had done its job with terrifying efficiency, closing the jagged puncture wound, but it had left a dark, raised, and thoroughly ugly scar running along her side.

​Caspian lingered by the basin, his large hands twitching at his sides as his golden eyes stared at the fresh blemish on her torso.

He hated it, and Hana didn’t like it either.

On her back, she had the vibrant pink tails of Raiden’s marked into her skin; on the side of her neck, Caspian’s dark dragon wings formed a proud, protective crest; and along her thighs, Kulu’s fierce, crimson falcon wings were elegantly etched.

Every mark on her body represented raw power, and they were pretty, too. This jagged scar was just a messy, uncalculated defect.

​"Stop staring, Caspian," she muttered, pressing the hot cloth firmly against the mark to soothe the dull throb beneath the surface. "It’s sealed. The aesthetic doesn’t change the output."

Despite that, he muttered something under his breath.

​Leaving him to brood, Hana pulled up her architectural interface on the tablet. Even now, she didn’t think resting was an option she could vie for. There was just so little time.

Her brow furrowed as she mapped out the coordinates of her territory. But then she noticed something. Right inside the den, she could hear the yipping of kits. Right, they were still here.

Even if she had asked her mates to take care of them, it wasn’t so they could overstay their welcome. The thought of some strangers going in and out of her home irritated her.

She tapped the screen with a cold flick, thinking about how creating a dedicated health sector was of the utmost priority now.

For one, her home was not a nursing home. And for another, she couldn’t have random variables migrating and dying on her soil before she even had a foundation laid to manage them.

​Feeling the air inside the cave grow heavy, Hana sighed. She needed to smell something that was not her own dried blood.

She walked out toward the mouth of the den to get some fresh air, with Caspian following from behind.

​It was completely dark outside now, the mid-afternoon heat having dissolved into a crisp, cool mountain night. The only illumination came from the small fires lit up by the Boars, who had started camping around to be more useful, led by Taga.

Then, she looked further. Standing near the ledge was Raiden, sorting through the remnants of his scattered harvest under the moonlight and possibly planting some in the soil.

​Before she could even call out to him, Hana’s stomach let out a loud, aggressive grumble. She froze, a rare flash of annoyance crossing her face as she realized she hadn’t eaten a single thing since before the chaotic surgery and then getting stabbed, and then falling asleep.

This day was not her best, but it was likely not her worst either.

​Raiden’s long fox ears immediately perked up at the sound of the growl. He turned around, his emerald eyes sparkling in the dark as his nine pink tails swished with sudden, prideful energy.

The dramatic, weeping mess from earlier was gone; he was entirely ready to show off the culinary skills she had taught him that morning.

​"Ah, my love is hungry," Raiden purred, a smooth, charming smile returning to his lips as he scooped up a bundle of clean wild tubers and potatoes. "Do not worry. The lizard only knows how to burn meat over a raw flame, but I remember every single instruction you gave me about the heat ratios. Sit, rest. I shall prepare a feast worthy of your balance."