Apocalypse Villainess Transmigrates Into The Beastworld With Debt

​As the numbing agent fully locked down her nervous system, dulling the agony into a distant, manageable throb, Hana slowly opened her eyes.

​Outside the cave ledge, the entire perimeter was in a state of absolute, frantic chaos. The foreign beastmen—the leopards and heavy bear-kin—were scurrying away into the thickets in sheer terror, realizing that an attack on the human female meant certain death under the claws of the dragon king.

​But it was the Fox Tribe that was completely mortified.

​They stood frozen in a messy, trembling cluster, their primitive bundles clutched to their chests.

Elder Meira was on her knees, her seven tails flat against the dirt, while the grey-furred Chief stared at the broken, limp body of the four-tailed female with wide, horrified eyes.

They knew the rules of the Peak. One of their own had just committed the ultimate transgression against the dragon king’s mate, and the rule of New Eden. Even if she had done it on her own volition, she would not be punished alone. It would be a collective punishment and the collective punishment would be merciless.

​Hana leaned heavily against Caspian, her dark eyes entirely cold and devoid of any warmth as she looked down at the trembling foxes.

​"Just wait right there," Hana muttered, her voice amplified slightly by the lingering system field, cutting through their fearful whimpers like a blade. "Don’t run. Don’t move. Once I’m fixed... I’m going to turn every single one of you into a slave. You want a piece of my technology? You’ll build it with your bare hands until your fingers bleed."

​The Fox Chief simply closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping in total, broken compliance. There was nowhere to run.

They were doomed.

​A sudden, violent rustle broke through the southern thickets.

​"Hana! Love! I have returned with the most magnificent harvest!"

​Raiden burst into the clearing, a heavy sack slung proudly over his shoulder, packed to the brim with wild potatoes, thick tubers, and aromatic valley roots.

His pink hair was perfectly in place, and his pink tails were swishing with an insufferable amount of pride.

"I’m telling you, the lizard wouldn’t even know where to look, but I found exactly—"

​The words died instantly in his throat.

​The sack slipped from his hand, hitting the dirt with a heavy, dull thud as potatoes and wild roots spilled across the rocky ground.

​Raiden’s emerald eyes swept over the scene in a fraction of a second. He saw the two mechanical stretchers holding the resting rabbit mother and her whimpering kits. He saw the broken, bloody form of the four-tailed fox female lying dead on the stone.

And then, his gaze locked onto Hana—bleeding, her white dress ruined with crimson, leaning weakly against Caspian’s broad chest while Kulu held a chemical foam cylinder over her wound.

​The lazy, aristocratic smirk vanished from Raiden’s face, replaced by an expression so dark it completely altered his elegant features.

​He became livid.

​A terrifying, primordial aura exploded from his body, so dense and heavy that the air around him warped with visual distortion.

The lazy pink radiance of his nine tails suddenly flared into an aggressive, unnatural emerald fire, expanding outward like a majestic, demonic fan. His slender fingers curved into sharp, gleaming talons, and the bright green of his eyes bled instantly into a vicious, glowing crimson.

​It was the true, unleashed wrath of a nine-tailed fox going completely feral—an ancient power that hadn’t been seen on the Peak in centuries.

​"Who," Raiden purred, his voice dropping into a low, echoing demonic register that made the surrounding Fox Tribe members drop flat onto their faces, screaming in terror and some grabbing their throats like they were being suffocated.

The pink fur on his tails stood completely on end as he stepped over his spilled harvest, his burning red eyes fixed on the bloody dress. "What happened to Hana?"

The suffocating weight of Raiden’s aura pressed down on the clearing like a collapsing mountain.

The grass beneath his feet instantly withered, turning to black ash as the emerald fire from his pink tails licked the air, sending waves of distorted heat ripping across the rock.

​Even Caspian let out a low, warning growl from behind Hana, his own dragon instincts flaring at the sudden threat of another apex predator unleashing its full power so close to his territory.

​But Hana didn’t care about a show of power. The freezing, chemical numbness of the synth-flesh foam was fighting a losing battle against the sheer psychological sensory overload.

The high-pitched mechanical whine of the distant automated builders, the terrified wails of the fleeing beastmen, and now Raiden’s thunderous, booming spiritual pressure were all converging right between her temples.

​Her head felt like it was about to split wide open.

​"Raiden..." Hana rasped, her voice lacking its usual strength but carrying an icy, lethal edge that cut straight through the roaring wind of his aura.

She didn’t look up from Caspian’s chest, her pale forehead leaning heavily against his shoulder as she tightened her grip on her blood-smeared tablet.

"Tone it down. Your tails are too loud... and my head hurts."

​The effect was instantaneous.

​The roaring, demonic emerald fire swirling around his nine pink tails snapped out of existence like a snuffed candle.

The heavy, air-warping pressure vanished in a second, leaving only the mundane mountain breeze and the pathetic, ragged gasps of the Fox Tribe members who had just been saved from suffocating to death.

​Raiden’s sharp talons receded, his slender fingers trembling as the glowing, vicious crimson in his eyes rapidly faded back into their familiar, vivid emerald green.

The feral beast was forcefully shoved back beneath the surface, leaving him looking raw, breathless, and utterly horrified.

​He didn’t care about the dead female on the stone. He didn’t care about his spilled harvest. He bypassed Caspian’s low, defensive rumble entirely, dropping to his knees right in front of Hana with a frantic, desperate grace.

His nine pink tails drooped flat against the blood-stained rock, completely stripped of their usual insufferable bounce.

​"Hana..." Raiden whispered, his voice trembling so violently it didn’t even sound like him.

He reached out, his hand hovering over the ruined, crimson-soaked fabric of her white dress, completely terrified to touch her, just as Caspian had been.

"Love... What did they do to you? Who did this?"

​"An idiot who couldn’t calculate her own survival odds," Hana muttered, her teeth grinding as a dull, pulsing throb vibrated behind her eyes.

She closed them, forcing her breathing into a strict pattern to keep her vitals from spiking on the system display. "She’s already dead. Caspian handled it."

​Raiden’s emerald eyes flicked to the side, locking onto the broken, limp body of the four-tailed fox female. He recognized her. She was that female who always tried to pester him when he was in the tribe, claiming she loved him here and there when she was only ever captivated by the brilliance of his nine tails of the lush of his pink.

A dark, ugly sneer twisted his elegant lips, his long fox ears pinning flat against his hair. The sheer stupidity of his kin had nearly cost him everything.

If she hadn’t been dead already, he would have dragged her soul through an illusionary hell until there was nothing left.