Apocalypse Villainess Transmigrates Into The Beastworld With Debt

​Hana didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him. She watched as Caspian and Kulu touched down, the wind from their landing kicking up a storm of dust.

​Tarrot, a lean warrior with a sneer, looked at Kulu and barked a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Look at our Prince. He was so pathetic that he couldn’t even get Lira to look at him, so he went for a piece of trash. A lowly and weak human. Tell me, Kulu, does she smell like the dirt she crawls on?"

​Hana’s eyes narrowed. The word trash echoed in her mind, igniting a cold, white-hot fury she usually kept under lock and key.

​Kulu’s face went pale with rage, his hand moving to the bone dagger at his hip. "Tarrot, watch your tongue. She is—"

​"She is nothing," Manel interrupted with a deep voice, stepping forward to flank Tarrot. "She is a temporary plaything. A land-walker with no pride. To think you’d choose a spider of trash over a Saint."

​Hana stepped forward, moving past Kulu. She didn’t need a dagger. She didn’t need wings. She could take out a beast twice her size with the right technique.

​"Did you just call me trash?" Hana’s voice was a low, dangerous purr that cut through the insults.

She looked at the three of them—Gulian holding the weeping Lira, and the two others preening with their spears. Then, she scoffed.

"You three are very loud for warriors who are about to lose their ability to walk... or fly."

​"Hana, stay back," Kulu whispered, his voice urgent. "These are the elite warriors. They are fast."

​"I don’t care how fast they are," Hana said, reaching into her pack, which she had wrapped around her waist to keep the little things she picked up along the way. She pulled out a sleek, black canister she’d grabbed from the bunker’s security locker—industrial-grade riot suppressant.

Just the thing to put a violent beast to rest.

​She turned her gaze to Gulian. "You want to talk about trash? You’re carrying a woman who just tried to murder my child because she was too insecure to handle a little competition. In my world, we didn’t just throw out trash. We incinerated it."

"You dare!" Gulian roared, dumping the wailing Lira onto the next falcon so he could lunge forward with his spear.

​Hana didn’t flinch. She didn’t even move her feet. As the spear tip whistled toward her, she avoided it with a sway of her head and thumbed the trigger on the black canister.

A thick, invisible cloud of high-potency riot suppressant hissed into the air, caught by the mountain wind and blown directly into the warriors’ faces.

​It wasn’t magic. It was chemistry.

​Gulian, Tarrot, and Manel suddenly dropped their weapons, their hands flying to their eyes as they let out strangled, agonizing screams.

The "Elite Warriors" collapsed into the red dirt, coughing and retching, their wings thrashing uselessly in the dust. Lira was left scrambling away on her hands and knees, gasping as the edge of the cloud hit her too.

​Hana walked forward, her bare feet stopping inches from Gulian’s head as he clawed at his burning face. She looked down at him with total, icy boredom.

​"Next time you want to call someone trash," Hana said, her voice dropping to a whisper that cut through his coughing, "make sure you aren’t the one lying in the dirt."

​Then, she lifted her leg and stepped on his wings hard, breaking the powerful joints.

He screamed, an agonizing wail, and then she turned to the other two, who were already scrambling away with their wings.

Even if they couldn’t see, they could at least flee from there.

Hana watched them scurrying away like flies and scoffed. Then, she turned back to Caspian and Kulu, who were staring in absolute, stunned silence.

Even Caspian’s nostrils stopped smoking for a second, his head tilting as he tried to figure out what ’invisible fire’ Hana had just breathed on them.

> ​[NOTIFICATION: WICKED BONUS - PSYCHOLOGICAL DOMINANCE]

> Reward: +4,000 Karmic Points.

> Current Balance: -1,151,880

Quite the great harvest I got in this place.

Both in points and resources.

"What are you standing around for?" Hana snapped, checking her inventory tablet as if she hadn’t just incapacitated three of the tribe’s best fighters. "The sun is already down. Move the panels. I want to be in the den before I have to deal with any more ’elite’ idiots."

​The sight of the broken ’Elite Warrior’ in the dirt didn’t make Caspian feel relaxed. If anything, it made him more paranoid. He looked at the remaining solar panels, then at the shadows of the Falcon tribe closing in on the ledges above.

​"I am not leaving you here to move glass, Hana," Caspian growled, his tail lashing the ground. "The sky is full of eyes, and they’ve seen you bleed their best. They’ll wait for us to fly away and then swarm you like locusts."

​Kulu landed beside them, his chest heaving. "He is right. My tribe is prideful. They won’t attack while we are here, but the moment the wind from our wings dies down, they’ll come for the one that shamed them."

​Hana looked at the six remaining solar panels. They were the most important part of her plan—without them, the bunker tech was just dead weight.

​"We aren’t leaving the panels," Hana said, her voice like flint. "Taga! New plan. You and the Boars are the ground escort. You carry the panels. Caspian, Kulu—you aren’t hauling this time. You are the Air Cover."

​"On the ground?" Taga squeaked, looking at the steep, narrow mountain pass. "But the Falcons... they’ll drop rocks on us!"

​"They won’t," Hana said, turning to Caspian. "Caspian, you fly low. Low enough that your shadow covers the Boars. If a single Falcon even looks like they’re going to dive, you burn the ledge. Kulu, you fly the perimeter. You know their flight patterns. You intercept anyone who gets close."

​Caspian let out a huff of smoke. He liked this plan better. It involved more potential violence. "And you? I’m not letting you walk that pass."

​"Don’t worry. I don’t want to walk either, so you’re carrying me," Hana commanded. "But you’re staying at the back of the line. We move as one unit. If we can’t fly the treasure home, we’ll march it home."

Hana, Caspian, and Kulu helped the Boars stack up the panels, layering them with thick hides and tying them together with sturdy mountain vines. Once the load was secure, they began the grueling trek.

Thankfully, the panels were not heavy, but the Boars had to move with agonizing slowness, their eyes glued to their feet to ensure they did not slip on the loose shale and break the precious glass.

​The atmosphere was thick with a heavy, suffocating silence. High above, the Falcon tribe watched from the jagged ledges, their wings rustling like a thousand dry leaves.

​"Stay close," Hana commanded while in Caspian’s arms, her voice low but carrying a sharp authority. "Taga, watch the center of the line. Don’t look up. Just look at the path."