Transmigrated into a reversed world
Chapter 219 - 219: You’ve suffered, my friend

Viktor had, at some point, crawled back to where Cyra and Zane were.

"Zane, now's the right time to bathe… it's blowing hot air," Viktor groaned, fanning himself as he moved toward Zane.

His skin had turned red from the heat, and his mood had dropped—a stark contrast to when their journey began.

Cyra wasn't doing any better. She lay flat on her back with a bedcover wrapped around her like a mummy.

"Bring me some ice chunks," she mumbled from beneath the covers.

"Alright," Viktor replied, dragging Zane into his space with him.

As soon as they stepped inside, they both sighed in relief as the unbearable heat vanished, and their bodies instantly cooled.

"Haa… I don't want to go out again," Viktor muttered, heading straight for the kitchen.

He pulled out two drink bottles from the thermocooler, handed one to Zane, then pressed the cold bottle against his forehead with a sigh of pure bliss.

Zane quickly unscrewed the cap and downed the soda in one go, gasping only after nearly emptying the entire bottle.

"Ahh… pass me another," he said, already holding the empty bottle out.

"Here," Viktor handed him another and finally opened his own.

After cooling off, Viktor glanced over at Zane with sympathy.

"You've suffered, my friend," he said, shaking his head—almost giving Zane a thumbs-up for surviving this hellish environment.

It wasn't just the monsters that made life difficult here. Everything—from the gloomy sky to the sweltering heat and awful food—seemed to conspire against them.

Throw your enemy into this place and he'll never be the same again. He'd either go mad or take his own life.

"It's not that bad, it has…" Zane trailed off, unable to finish under Viktor's deadpan stare.

After experiencing the real world, he couldn't even lie. Still, to defend his home, he added, "It builds resilient people. I'm going to the washroom. Don't forget the ice for Cyra."

He hurried off before Viktor could get another word in.

With a resigned sigh, Viktor shook his head, filled a container with ice blocks, and exited his space—reappearing exactly where he left.

"I brought the ice," he said, lifting the cover to reveal Cyra's sweat-drenched face.

"Why don't I send you into my space? You're burning up," he offered, concern in his voice as he gently rubbed her face with a piece of ice.

Cyra was tempted, but she shook her head.

"It's not safe to leave them here. Once we make camp, I'll go in," she murmured weakly, burying her face into the container of melting ice.

A wave of coolness washed over her. She could only hope evening would come soon.

"Alright then. Let me know if you need more ice," Viktor said, lingering a moment before returning to his space.

Behind them, the women riding their beasts were slumped and weary—throats parched, faces red, and sweat dripping down their backs.

They wondered if this torture would ever end… or if they would break before reaching their destination.

Their thoughts turned bleak as the sun beat down mercilessly on their bodies.

Time blurred as they pushed forward in a half-conscious state. Hours passed.

And then, evening came. But with it… trouble.

"Skitttt…"

A sharp cry shattered the stillness, snapping them out of their daze. Everyone tensed, eyes darting around.

And found nothing.

Maybe it was the heat messing with their minds.

"Skittttt…"

The cry echoed again, and this time, the ground behind them trembled. Black creatures with sharp claws and double pincers burst from below.

"What is that?" a woman gasped in horror as one of the monsters let out a piercing shriek and lunged forward.

"Run!" someone screamed. The shout was like hitting play—everyone bolted.

Viktor looked down at the swarm, gripping Greed's fur tightly as fear crawled up his spine.

"That's a Scitticks… so they survived the destruction," Cyra murmured in surprise before leaping off Greed.

"Cyra!" Viktor screamed, scrambling to the edge, heart pounding.

"Don't worry, she won't die," Zane said calmly, patting Viktor's back. His frown, however, betrayed his concern.

"She could've at least given me a warning! My heart almost flew out of my chest!" Viktor fumed.

Zane didn't reply, letting Viktor vent. Though Viktor enjoyed the thrill of danger, this wasn't the kind he liked.

After that bomb attack, Cyra had explained her other form—one with an indestructible body. Remembering that calmed Zane's nerves. She wasn't reckless enough to throw away her life.

"Greed, fly lower," Zane commanded.

Greed responded with a cry and swooped down.

As they neared the ground, they saw Cyra amid a pile of blood and torn monster limbs.

She twisted, dodging a stinger, then grabbed a Scittick by its head and crushed its skull. Blood spurted out, but she dodged it effortlessly.

She alone had massacred the entire horde—and hadn't broken a sweat.

The women wondered how someone could be so powerful. In their society, true strength was rarely necessary—only the wealthy kept guards, either as status symbols or to handle their dirty work.

They had never seen a woman as powerful as their new boss, which left them questioning why she even needed them when she could do everything on her own.

In under ten minutes, the remaining Scitticks realized they'd messed with the wrong opponent and fled underground.

Cyra didn't chase them. Instead, she calmly took out a bottle of water, washed the blood from her hands, and signalled Greed.

"You'll walk back or jump up yourself," came Zane's cold voice from above.

"Viktor snorted coldly, fully supporting Zane's decision.

Cyra could feel the gossipy stares from the women and coughed awkwardly, well aware that she had angered Zane with her earlier recklessness.

Before she could apologize, all she saw was Greed's back as he flew farther away from her.

"Umm… boss, you can ride—" one of the women began, but her sentence ended in a gasp.

A red blur shot past her—Cyra vanished from the spot.

She blinked, stunned, but then calmly patted her beast. With this boss, nothing was really surprising anymore.

They all continued riding.

…...

"What do you mean you lost contact with our spies!?"

Cracks spidered across the woman's face as she tried to hold back her rage.

"I sent a hundred men, but none reported back!" the trembling voice came from the hologram.

"Useless! I want answers in an hour—and find that woman's location! Now!"

With a snap, she ended the call, screaming as her hand slammed into the glass table—shattering it instantly.

"Why is nothing going my way when it comes to this woman named Cyra?" she hissed. "Do I have to kill her myself?"

She entertained the thought for a moment, but the idea of leaving her master alone was unthinkable.

Drawing in deep breaths, she forced down her fury and began to strategize—she needed a new plan to eliminate Cyra, once and for all.