Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess
Chapter 225: I want to regain my energy

Chapter 225: I want to regain my energy

Qingran remained silent, enveloped by the oppressive stillness of the basement.

The faint, eerie glow of her azure flame cast dancing shadows on the walls, like dark specters echoing her exhausted form. Her ribs pulsed with pain, a slow, rhythmic reminder of her body’s limits.

Finally, she whispered, "Rough is normal."

[You always say that before you do something reckless.]

"I’m not doing anything yet. I’m just hiding."

[Sure. You only hide when you’re planning something.]

Qingran’s silence was neither confirmation nor denial. Lingquan knew her too well, though.

She shifted, using her jacket as a makeshift pillow, and curled up tightly. Her body craved rest; her mind demanded clarity. She couldn’t move until she’d regained her strength.

So she did what always helped her focus, she replayed the rooftop scene in her mind.

The eerie stillness of the crowd, their blind devotion, Fengya’s silver eyes, and the twisted reverence they inspired.

A leader emerging from the Rift like a deity, promising paradise to those who followed.

"Empress...huh" Qingran whispered into the darkness, testing the word. Not just a commander or a leader, but a figure demanding worship.

And judging by the crowd’s reaction, they’d already given it to her.

[This isn’t just about you anymore.]

"I know. It wasn’t about me before."

[If she’s recruiting with promises of paradise...] Lingquan’s voice trailed off, then resumed with a more serious tone.

[This is a cult, and a big one. If she’s using Riftlight to control them, it’s not just indoctrination – it’s neurological manipulation.]

Qingran’s body tensed slightly. "I didn’t see any implants.." she said softly.

[You don’t need implants to control someone. A little Riftlight in the system, a clever psychic trigger, and you’ve got a mind on a leash.]

Her stomach churned with cold calculation, not fear. She recalled the glassy-eyed stare of the crowd, their slack-jawed awe, and their absolute obedience. That wasn’t free will; that was their programming.

"That sly bitch..." she paused then continue "Then I can’t just stay away," she said finally. Her voice was quiet, but resolute.

[What did I just say about you doing something stupid—]

"She’s going to grow her numbers. If I stay silent, her network will spread faster than I can recover. People will die. Or worse. Be turned into that."

[You’re alone, Qingran. Don’t pretend that doesn’t matter.]

"I’m never alone.." she whispered. "I have you."

There was a long pause, and then—

[Yeah..even though you’re stupid. You still have me.]

Qingran smiled and closed her eyes. "I’ll take care of this place once I wake up.."

The darkness wrapped around her like a thick shroud, heavy with stillness.

For a while, the only sound was her breathing – uneven but steady – as her body gradually released its pent-up tension. The faint glow of her azure flame dwindled to a soft ember, conserving energy.

Somewhere above, the world continued to turn, oblivious to the girl huddled beneath its surface, rebuilding herself incrementally.

By the time Qingran stirred, the faint light filtering through the cracks above had shifted, making it difficult to gauge the passage of time. Minutes? Hours?

Her body still throbbed with deep, bone-level pain, a reminder that she was far from healed. However, her mind felt sharper, more stable.

She sat up slowly, cautious not to exacerbate her rib pain, and reached out mentally.

"Lingquan?"

[Here. You were out for four hours. I was incredibly bored.]

A faint smile touched her lips. "Thanks for watching over me."

[You didn’t exactly give me a choice. But yeah, nothing came close. You’re safe... for now.]

She nodded and stretched her limbs one by one, assessing her limitations. Her right arm was stiff but functional. Her ribs were a concern, but if she moved carefully and breathed shallowly, she could manage. Her legs still worked. That was all she needed just enough mobility to keep going.

"Alright. Let’s clean this place up. If I want to spend some days here, I got make it worth it.."

She took some cleaning supplies from the system warehouse. There was also some lying around so she made do with that.

She began with slow, deliberate movements, first purging the room of biohazards.

A small container of her azure flames was enough to sterilize the worst of the rot, moldy patches on the walls, bloodstains on the floor, the lingering presence of death.

It didn’t take long before the air felt noticeably lighter, less oppressive, though her breath still hitched occasionally from the strain.

The space had probably once been a storage room.

A rusted desk leaned against the far wall, half-eaten by moisture and time. Several metal shelves, warped and leaning precariously, lined one corner.

A few crates, some empty, some with sealed emergency rations or dried-out supplies, had been pushed into a pile.

Qingran reorganized what she could. Usable containers were cleaned and stacked.

Trash was burned with a controlled flame. The more she cleared, the more the space transformed not homey, but at least habitable.

A place to hide, to rest, to think.

She didn’t stop until her hands were trembling again.

Qingran pulled the futon from her system space with practiced ease, letting it unfurl across the newly cleaned floor. The familiar texture, soft but firm, made her exhale slowly.

It wasn’t comfort in the true sense, it wasn’t safety but it was something closer to peace.

The blanket followed, warm and thick, smelling faintly of cedar from the preservation seal she’d embedded in her warehouse ages ago.

She settled it neatly, then rummaged through a different section of her space for a meal.

The noodles she pulled out were instant, just the right kind of bland she needed when her stomach was still iffy from the adrenaline crash and the pressure in her ribs.

After heating the water with a touch of azure flame, she poured it into the cup and let it steep, her movements slow, mechanical, careful.

[You’re really going for normalcy now, huh? Noodles and a futon. Very apocalyptic chic.]

"Normal is a strategy," she murmured, watching the steam rise as the noodles softened.

She sat on the futon and slurped quietly, taking her time. Her body ached with each movement, but not as sharply as before.

The pain had dulled into a constant, familiar hum, background noise she could manage.

Every bite she took grounded her further, until the last strand disappeared and she wiped her mouth with the corner of her sleeve.

She lay down after, blanket pulled up to her chin, her cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

It was warm, too warm for how cold the basement air had become, but she didn’t mind. Her body curled naturally, the position protecting her ribs and coaxing sleep forward.

[You really gonna crash again?]

"Yes. Just trying to regain my strength.."

Yu Song stood near the front of the boarded-up checkout lanes, eyes trained on the shuttered doors. The tension in his shoulders had not eased since Qingran left.

"She’s been gone too long," he said again, louder this time.

Meng Nian was kneeling nearby, inventorying the weapons they’d salvaged mostly knives and broken-off metal rods. He didn’t look up as he replied. "We agreed to trust her judgment."

Yu Song turned sharply. "That’s not the same as letting her disappear underground without backup."

Meng Nian finally lifted his gaze. "She wasn’t in a state to fight. You saw that. She needed time."

"She also needed someone to watch her back."

Silence stretched between them, thick as concrete. A few of the survivors glanced nervously at the rising tension, but no one spoke up.

They knew better. This wasn’t a petty disagreement. It was the kind of conversation people had when they didn’t know if someone they cared about was ever coming back.

Yu Song looked like he was about to move. His weight shifted, muscles tense, jaw set.

"I’m going after her."

"No, you’re not," Meng Nian said firmly, standing. "You don’t know where she went."

"I saw the general direction. I can find her."

"You’re going to leave everyone here vulnerable so you can go wander around the ruins on a guess?"

"I’d rather risk that than sit here and do nothing."

"Qingran would kill you if you got yourself hurt because of her," Meng Nian said sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You think she’d want that on her conscience?"

Yu Song clenched his fists, clearly on the verge of snapping. "I know she’s strong. But that doesn’t mean she’s invincible."