Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess
Chapter 222: she’s either crazy or stupid

Chapter 222: she’s either crazy or stupid

[Use caution. Remaining two targets are highly volatile. Estimated time to contact: 4 seconds.]

Qingran didn’t reply. Her jaw clenched, blood sliding from the corner of her mouth as she adjusted her stance. The burst of energy from the flame strike had hollowed her out just a bit too much — not dangerous yet, but dangerously close.

The second Riftborn — the one that had leaked out of the concrete like spilled shadow — slithered with unnatural grace, reforming into a hunched quadruped. It hissed, though it had no mouth, and the tips of its claws glimmered like obsidian glass.

"Come on then," she muttered.

It obliged.

It darted left — feint — then right — real — and she turned into it, body low, ducking beneath its strike. The moment its limb passed over her, she pivoted hard, catching the joint in its rear leg with the axe haft. The blow cracked through cartilage, and the beast shrieked as it stumbled.

That’s when she grabbed it.

With bare hands.

Her fingers closed on the slick, writhing mass of its torso, and the azure flame curled upward again — summoned not from the system this time, but from her blood, her will, her rage.

The purifying fire flared to life in a shockwave of blue light, and the creature buckled under her hands. It tried to melt away — phase out — but she held tight, gritting her teeth as the burning process licked across her palms.

[Target Two eliminated. Caution: palm dermal integrity compromised. Minor burns detected.]

She didn’t have time to care.

The third Riftborn was already mid-air.

It had jumped — no, launched — from behind the rooftop debris with legs folded tight beneath it, silent as an arrow and twice as fast. Its form whirled like a comet of bone and shadow.

There was no room to dodge.

Qingran exhaled — then dropped. She folded her knees, letting her body collapse backward into a roll as the creature flew overhead, missing her by inches.

The ground cracked where it landed.

She flipped back to her feet in one smooth motion, spun the axe in her grip, and threw it.

The weapon cleaved through the air, humming with momentum, and embedded itself into the creature’s shoulder with a wet crunch.

It shrieked, but didn’t fall.

And she had no more weapons.

Qingran sprinted. Not away — toward.

One heartbeat. Two.

She launched herself off a crumbled bit of sidewalk, one foot catching a fire hydrant for a boost, and slammed bodily into the Riftborn’s torso, dragging it down.

The two of them hit the pavement hard. It lashed out with clawed limbs, gouging a cut across her side. Her vision flared white with pain, but her hand was already moving.

She reached for the axe.

Not to pull it free — to drive it deeper.

She shoved the blunt end with her palm, then again, then again, until the blade split through the far side of its chest.

And then—

The azure fire bloomed again, sparked not from her control but her fury, her will to end it now.

The light seared across the alley like a curtain falling.

[Target Three eliminated. Optional objective complete.]

[Reward Unlocked: Rift Combat Proficiency Lv.1. Adaptive Skill: Shadow Instinct (locked until system sync). +12 system credits. Mental strain increased: 78%. Immediate rest recommended.]

She breathed.

Once. Twice.

Then the pain caught up.

She staggered backward, knees buckling for a moment, catching herself against the ruined hydrant. Her axe clanged to the ground beside her, slick with ichor.

[You did well.]

"You suck.." she rasped.

[System: Emergency signal detected. New rift signature inbound, this is not categorized. Retreat or relocate immediately.]

Qingran’s face tightened. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

[No. This is not a joke. Unknown class approaching. Estimated time to contact: 24 seconds.]

Her breath caught. The usual Riftborn, twisted monsters, yes, but at least predictable she could handle. But "not categorized"? That meant one thing: something the system itself didn’t fully understand. Something from deeper within the rift.

Maybe experimental. Maybe intelligent. Or a higher breed.

And she was bleeding, exhausted, and out of energy. She couldn’t drag this back to the supermarket. That would be a massacre waiting to happen.

Her legs pushed off the ground almost without conscious thought, her movements jerky but urgent. She didn’t sheath the axe, just held it in one hand, the edge dragging a whisper through the dirt as she limped toward the alley’s far end.

She had to lead it away. Lure it somewhere it wouldn’t cost her people.

Ahead, the cracked street narrowed into a half-collapsed underpass. Beyond that was the edge of the old industrial district not quite outside city limits, but close.

From what Lingquan had told her.

She ducked beneath a warped streetlight, sprint-limping hard now. Her blood left a dotted trail behind her, but she didn’t stop.

[Target has entered pursuit range. Movement speed increasing.]

"I got that part, thanks."

Qingran ducked down another street, leaping a shattered barrier, and kept moving. The wind seemed to shift and then she heard it.

Not footsteps.

A kind of scraping breath.

A slow distortion in the air, like fabric being pulled apart just behind her.

Her spine stiffened, but she didn’t turn. The warehouses were close now, looming ahead, rusted steel giants with broken windows and chain-link fences like rib cages. The silence out here was worse than the city.

But she slipped through the gate of one anyway.

It was darker inside. The rafters had collapsed in parts, casting strange shadows along the floor. It wasn’t ideal, no vantage point, no allies, no exit plan. But maybe she could lose the thing in here.

Qingran pulled in a shuddering breath, pushed a rusted container in front of the entrance as best she could, and collapsed behind a pile of old pallets.

[Signal stabilizing. Unknown entity halted outside perimeter. Estimated 6 meters.]

[Warning: Mental strain has exceeded 80%. Fainting threshold likely within 3–5 minutes without intervention.]

"I know.." she whispered. "Let me just... catch my breath..."

She didn’t get the chance to.

A heavy sound, not of claws, not of wind but of boots. But metal on metal.

She went still.

And then voices sounded.

Low. Male. Human. One of them laughed.

"She led it here? Crazy girl’s either brave or stupid."

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