Transmigrated into a reversed world

The battle raged on, but fear gripped some of the women—hands trembling, their attacks missing the mark.

From within the monster horde, Cyra darted forward, shoving them away just in time to avoid the monster's killing blow.

They saw a flash of red hair before they were thrown further away from the monster horde.

Pained groans and hisses escaped their lips as their backs hit the gritty sand.

But none of them complained—only gratitude filled their hearts, knowing it could only have been their boss who saved them.

Cyra kept doing the same—staying out of the fight, giving the women a chance to face the monsters' full strength. She hoped they would learn, stepping in only when death was seconds away.

Moments like these passed until the horde began to retreat, making the women pant in relief.

Their weapons and clothes were soaked in black blood, and some stumbled back in exhaustion.

Amelia tried to raise her arms, but a bolt of pain shot through them, her fingers trembling and she almost dropped her weapon.

"Need my help?"

Amelia flinched at the sudden voice and turned to find Arya nervously staring at the ground, blood dripping from the edges of her clothes.

Just then, movement flickered at the edge of Amelia's vision. She caught the incoming attack and dodged, but the motion sent a sharp bolt of pain through her dislocated arms, making her groan.

Without a word, Arya lifted her iron-spiked bat and brought it down hard on the monster's fragile skull, crushing it in one swift blow.

Amelia watched from the side no longer surprised at Arya's decisive and swift actions.

Earlier, she had wondered how such a shy, introverted woman had managed to pass the interview test—but their battle with the monsters had opened her eyes.

Arya was far stronger than two of her combined. Her timid behaviour had simply hidden that truth from everyone else.

"Thank you, but there's no need—they're retreating," Amelia said, nodding toward the monsters as they drew back.

"Ha… finally," Erica muttered, approaching with silver guns in hand. "I was almost out of laser cards."

"We survived," Arya muttered, sinking to the ground and crossing her legs.

"Yeah, but my laser cards won't last if there's another attack like that," Erica said as she sat beside her. "I have to rely on the sun to charge these guns."

Amelia, too exhausted to speak, lowered herself to the ground with a hiss as her arm twinged from the movement.

"I think both your arms are dislocated," Erica said, noticing her stiffness and pained expression. "Want me to set them for you?"

"Hmm. Gentle." Amelia said in a whisper.

Erica stood and stepped closer, reaching for Amelia's left shoulder.

"Count to three and clench your teeth. It's gonna hurt," she warned.

"One—ahhh! F*ck!" Amelia screamed as Erica popped her shoulder back in place. Tears slipped down her face—only for another jolt of pain to hit her right shoulder before she could brace for it.

Arya flinched at Amelia's screams, her eyes wide with fear—and a growing wariness of Erica.

Catching her gaze, Erica gave her a mischievous wink. "All done. Trust me, it would've hurt more if you'd seen it coming."

In her mind, the logic was sound—and Amelia should've been grateful.

But in that moment, Amelia wanted nothing more than to shred Erica to pieces and toss her to the monsters.

"Thanks," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I hope you never dislocate anything… ever." Her murderous glare said the rest.

Arya scooted farther away from the two women, silently deciding they were scarier than the monsters they'd just fought.

"Boss is here!" someone shouted, drawing their attention. They turned to see Cyra striding out from a pile of monster corpses.

Cyra's eyes landed on them. Without a word, and ignoring their stares, she pulled out a bundle of medicine from her space and placed it on the ground.

"Treat your injuries. We'll have a feast tonight. You were brave not to run," she added dryly—but the women were still grateful to receive praise from their powerful boss.

And once she left their sight, cheers erupted at the thought of food—it had only been a day and a half, but it felt like ages.

Cyra entered her space, and the familiar rocky ground and mountain tops scattered around appeared in her view.

She had picked up a few extra supplies while purchasing medicine.

Passing mounds of gold bars scattered across the rocky terrain, Cyra made her way toward a cluster of tiny, cube-shaped bags lying on the ground.

She crouched down and pressed the edge of one. Within seconds, it expanded—inflating as if filled with air.

She repeated the process with the rest of the cube bags, watching each one expand in size.

When she unzipped the first, it was packed with neatly arranged frozen meats of various kinds.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she wondered whether the meat itself had shrunk with the bag—or if only the outer casing had compressed.

'Ingenious.' The thought flashed through her mind, marveling at the technology.

She opened the remaining bags—grains, spices, medicine, alcohol, and a few other essentials she'd remembered to buy.

With one last glance around her space, she grabbed the bags of grain, meat, and spices, then left the space.

When she reappeared, a loud cry from Greed filled the air. She looked up just as he landed, his wings kicking up a thick cloud of dust that swallowed the area.

"We didn't make it back in time," Viktor muttered to himself, a hint of relief in his voice as he climbed down, soon as the dust cleared.

They could've arrived on time—if Greed hadn't ended up with a runny stomach from snacking on too many different snacks.

Zane climbed down next, shooting a disgusted glance at the still-sulking Greed.

"What happened?" Cyra asked, her brow slightly raised. Given Greed's speed, they should've gotten here much earlier.

At her question, Viktor and Zane exchanged guilty glances, but neither wanted to admit the cause.

Cyra set the bags down and looked at them, quickly noticing how both avoided her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed, then shifted to Greed's green-tinged face.

"You fed him something you shouldn't have," she guessed sharply.

The way they stiffened confirmed she was right.

Cyra let out a helpless sigh. She didn't need to ask—Greed's sickly look said it all. They'd clearly gone overboard with the snacks.

"If either of you ends up with a toothache, I'll personally make sure the dentist yanks it out—no replacement."

Cyra's tone was warm, almost casual, but both men shivered. They knew she meant every word.

They stood with obedient expressions, but Cyra didn't buy their innocent faces. She knew her threat would blow away like dust in two days.

Shaking her head, she changed the subject.

"We're having a feast tonight," she announced, pointing at the bulging bags. "A reward for those who stayed and fought."

At the mention of food, Greed's stomach growled loudly. Zane flushed in embarrassment, feeling like he'd lost face having such a gluttonous soul beast—conveniently forgetting he was just as bad.

"I can lend them pots and whatever else they need to cook... hmm, should have enough plates too," Viktor mused, then vanished into his space.

"Should I go look for the ones who fled?" Zane asked, though he doubted it mattered—they were probably dead or poisoned by now.

"No. They chose to run. Their lives have nothing to do with us," Cyra replied coolly, lifting the bags and walking away.

Zane shrugged and turned to Greed with arms crossed. "You still have the stomach to eat."

Greed covered his face with his feathered arms in response, knowing his master was angry.

******

"Butler, the crops have been harvested and half have been sent to the town mall." A woman reported, moving her hologram screen closer for Kyle to see the amount.

Kyle nodded with a hum as he flipped through the screen, "Send the other half to Mira, tell her to sell it through her channels."

Kyle ordered feeling it was wasteful to horde the other half while it could generate income for the Island.

"Yes sir." The woman responded before leaving the office.

Kyle rubbed his stiff neck, a yawn escaping his lips as he gazed at the remaining work.

He still needed to approve the funds for restocking herbs, medicine, and other essentials for the town mall from the mainland.

"knock."

Kyle stopped massaging his neck, "Enter." He called out, leaning back into his seat.

Louis entered with a tray in hand.

"I brought lunch—the chef asked me to bring it up. I added some dessert too," he muttered, setting the tray down.

Kyle looked at him like a saviour, his stomach growling in response. He'd nearly forgotten to eat with all the work piling up.

"Thank you." Kyle's grateful tone echoed softly through the room and he wasted no time uncovering the plate.

"You're welcome. Want water or something to drink with it?" Louis asked considerately, watching Kyle eat—neatly, despite his hunger.

"Both. With ice," Kyle replied after swallowing his mouthful.

He made a mental note to ask Cyra about raising Louis's salary.

"Okay." Louis nodded and left the office but another knock came in a minute later. Discover more novels at noᴠelfire.net

Kyle assumed Louis had forgotten something and returned—but when he called out for him to enter, it was someone else entirely.

"Butler, sorry to disturb you," the woman said quickly, noticing the frown forming on Kyle's face. "We have a visitor. He says he's the City Lord's husband."

"Which City Lord's husband?" Kyle asked, raising a brow, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"Yale City, sir—the one closest to the Island."

Kyle was silent for a moment, his expression giving nothing away.

"Take him to the guest building. I'll be there in forty minutes," he said calmly, then returned to his meal, his mind elsewhere.