Transmigrated into a reversed world
Chapter 213 - 213: it’s like a kink

The aircraft lowered, and its doors chimed open, inviting the fighters to enter. No one came out, so they entered the aircraft cautiously.

Amelia took an empty seat like the others. Once all 150 seats were filled, the aircraft doors closed just as smoothly as they had opened.

Soft murmurs filled the cabin, everyone curious about who their boss was and where they were headed, but none knew the answer for now.

Time passed gradually, and everyone settled in, some resting their eyes and others looking out the window in hopes they could gleam where they were.

In the private cabin, Viktor sat cross-legged, snacking lazily while scrolling through his hologram screen.

On the other end, Zane sprawled on the couch, his legs draped over the armrest; he, too, was munching on snacks as he watched painting videos to pass the time.

"I'm bored…" Viktor's words were muffed by his full mouth and Zane almost missed what he said.

Zane paused his video and looked towards Viktor, whose expression looked like he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Aren't you watching videos earlier…watch a movie or something," Zane suggested and popped a blue candy into his mouth, shifting comfortably onto the couch he was about to resume his video.

"Let's talk in my space."

Before Zane could react, the room shifted around him. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden change, then shot Viktor a reproachful look.

"You could've warned me." Zane frowned, dusting the snack crumbs from his lips.

"I need your advice on something…cough." Viktor flushed at the thought of what he was about to say.

"Okay…" Zane drawled, puzzled at Viktor's sudden shyness and waited patiently for Viktor to continue.

But Viktor said nothing save for motioning for him to follow. Zane's brows raised, but he followed behind Viktor.

They walked deeper into the castle, silent as they passed hallway after hallway before Viktor stopped in front of a wall.

Zane watched as Viktor pressed a section in the pillar, and the wall slid open, to Zane's surprise.

As they entered, the lights flicked on, illuminating the room.

Zane froze at the sight—whips, a cross, and other things he couldn't even name.

For reasons he couldn't explain, a blush crept across his face.

"W-W-What is this?" Zane stammered, glancing at Viktor—who stood dazed, flushed, and practically drooling.

A chill ran down Zane's spine. He was officially creeped out.

"Viktor, Viktor, Viktor!" Zane had to shout his name before Viktor snapped back to the present.

He turned and scratched his head, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry, I was lost in thought; what did you say earlier?" Viktor asked.

Zane pointed to the things in the room with a clueless expression, his gaze was filled with questions.

"What! You don't know these things…then you're just into vanilla stuff with mistress, huh?'' Viktor's voice was filled with surprise, then nodding in acceptance at Zane's choice.

"These things are used to make lovemaking more exciting, it's like a kink." He explained; Zane's mouth dropped open in shock, unable to comprehend why someone would need a whip or crop during lovemaking.

"Sigh…it seems I can't get any advice from you—you don't even know what they are used for," Viktor muttered to himself in disappointment.

He thought he could at least hear what it feels like from another person's mouth but sigh…

"Umm…You…use this with…" Zane's words were disjointed, trailing off as his caramel skin flushed redder than tomatoes.

He tried to picture the scene of his wife holding a whip and his nose grew hot, almost having a nosebleed at that thought.

Zane quickly shook his head, trying to clear that image from his mind.

"I'll send videos to you, after you watch you understand their uses," Viktor said as he scrolled through his hologram screen, searching for a self-explanatory video for Zane.

Viktor's earlier shyness had faded the moment Zane knew nothing about BDSM play. Now, he patiently explained everything.

Zane froze. His bracelet chimed, his wrist burning like he held a hot potato.

"Let's go; I'm taking the remaining chocolate-flavoured ice cream." Viktor changed the subject, pulling the shocked Zane out of the room.

The wall slid shut behind them. Only when the ice cream landed in front of him did his thoughts return to the present.

….

After two hours passed, the aircraft neared its location and Cyra was woken up by the mechanic notification she set at the start of the journey.

[Approximately ten minutes to the set location!]

Cyra combed her hair backwards with her fingers, a yawn escaping her lips as she got up slowly from the bed.

She turned her side to find Zane and Viktor's stirring figure—the alarm had woken them as well.

The fighters straightened in their seats, eyes alert, feeling the aircraft was descending in a large clearing, surrounded by lush forest.

When the aircraft packed, the doors opened, but none of the fighters stood to leave, their gazes focused on the private cabin area.

The sounds of footsteps nearer the door and everyone tensed, their gazes focused squarely on the door—they would finally meet their boss.

The door slid open. Viktor and Zane stepped out—only to freeze at the stares aimed at them in the passenger area.

Then Cyra walked out behind them, and instantly, all eyes shifted to her.

A strange hush fell over the cabin. The moment their gazes landed on Cyra, the fighters' instincts screamed—like a radar blaring, warning them to run.

Even though Cyra strode lazily down the aisle, no one dared to breathe loudly; their body tensed, their backs breaking out in sweat at Cyra's presence.

Reaching the door, Cyra frowned when she saw no one had moved. "We are here. Get down." She said curtly before stepping out.

As soon as she disappeared from view, everyone exhaled—the breath they hadn't realized they were holding.

'She's a monster.'

The thought echoed in all their minds at once.

Years of brutal training and near-death missions had honed their instincts to the fullest, warning them at the first sight of danger.

But the danger they felt from her was on a different level—they could still feel the powerlessness lingering in their bones, just from her mere presence.

Silently, they pushed aside their thoughts and exited the aircraft.

The silver doors slid shut the moment the last person stepped out.

"Follow me," Cyra said, once everyone had gathered—Zane and Viktor flanking her on either side.