Apocalypse Villainess Transmigrates Into The Beastworld With Debt

Chapter 21: "I’m making a dress, Caspian, not a winter coat,"

Apocalypse Villainess Transmigrates Into The Beastworld With Debt

Chapter 21: "I’m making a dress, Caspian, not a winter coat,"

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Chapter 21: "I’m making a dress, Caspian, not a winter coat,"

To sew a fabric that was basically indestructible—something even a Dragon’s claws couldn’t rip—Hana had to do the impossible. In the wasteland, ’impossible’ just meant a survivor hadn’t yet used enough heat or pressure. Or rather, the right method.

The afternoon sun was still high, pouring a bright, harsh light into the mouth of the cave. It was perfect for the kind of delicate work Hana needed to do.

"Raiden, hold this end," Hana commanded. "Pull it tight. If it bunches up even a little, the needle won’t find the gap, and I assure you, it’ll find your skin instead."

Raiden knelt across from her, his nine pink tails tucked away from the soot of the soap-fire. He gripped the shimmering silver cloth, his green eyes wide with curiosity.

"It feels like cold water, Hana. How can a bone needle pierce something the Fire King couldn’t even scratch?"

"By being smarter than a lizard," Hana muttered.

She didn’t try to just shove the needle through; that would only break the bone. Instead, she held her sharpest bone needle over the glowing coals of the soap-fire until the tip was white-hot.

Then, she dipped it into the bowl of melted boar fat. The bone held strong against the heat, but the grease acted like a perfect lubricant, helping the hot needle slide between the tight, tiny threads of the silver weave.

Hana used a flat, heavy stone to push the needle, putting her whole body weight behind the strike.

Pop.

The needle finally slid through.

"One," she breathed.

It was such tedious work, but he had to do it. She was the only one with the know-how after all.

Behind her, the constant scrape-thud of Caspian’s work echoed through the den. He was currently dragging a pile of old, dusty dragon scales into a far corner, huffing as smoke curled from his nose. Every time he glanced back at how close Raiden was sitting to her, his scales pulsed an irritated orange as if he planned to puff a bloom of fire toward Raiden’s tails.

"That cloth is too thin!" Caspian grumbled. "It won’t keep you warm when winter comes! You should use the wolf furs instead!"

"I’m making a dress, Caspian, not a winter coat," Hana called back without looking up. "Focus on your rocks. The big ones go at the bottom, remember?"

Caspian let out a frustrated growl but went back to his labor. He was a King, but right now, he was a King with a very specific chore list.

It took Hana nearly three hours of burning, dipping, and pushing. The sheer size of the ’ghost-skin’ fabric meant every inch was a battle against unyielding threads, her hands aching from the repetitive pressure needed to make the bone needle penetrate.

"Are you alright?" Raiden asked as he watched her fling her tired wrists.

She looked at him and then continued, refusing to be pitied.

"I’m fine, just focus on the task, Raiden."

"You’re so great, Hana," He complimented, smiling his purest. He had never seen any female work this hard before. They were all just lazy and proud.

Hana is a bit... hard to understand, and she sometimes says something that he doesn’t understand. She also treats them like a nuisance, but she’s pretty, smart, and very hardworking.

He smiled even more, a little laughter bubbling in his throat. He liked her. He was glad she became his mate, though he didn’t really know why she chose to do it. He was hurt, yes, but walking with her told him she wasn’t exactly the sympathetic type.

Ah, and the best part was how she was handling that arrogant and prideful dragon. He couldn’t have asked for a better situation.

"What are you giggling about, Raiden?" Hana snapped, and he flinched out of his thoughts. "Focus,"

"Yes, Hana,"

Hana wasn’t crafting anything fancy or structured; it was a basic, simple wrap-around style that would form a functional dress, designed to bind her breasts securely while flowing down to hit just above her knees. It was utilitarian, built for movement and protection rather than aesthetic appeal.

And it was a lot of work. Her back ached, her fingers stung, and her wrist was getting tired, but she did not stop. It was not just so she could cover up, but so she could get those 15k points as soon as possible.

’I’m glad I at least have a talent for sewing,’ Hana thought.

Before the apocalypse, one of the things she at least enjoyed doing was sewing. When locked in that small dark attic as ’punishment’, she bided her time with sewing, using the light that seeped in through the little crack at the wall to see. And at night, when it was even scarier and harder to see, she would hum to herself.

Her sewing skills helped her in the apocalypse a lot. She could literally turn even the roughest rags into something half decent to wear. That is, if it had not been soaked in radioactive waste and was harmful to the skin.

"Hah," Hana finally let out a sigh of relief. "Finally."

She pulled the last gut-string tight and knotted it.

Then, the window flickered open in front of her.

> [MISSION COMPLETE: ADVANCED CRAFTING]

> [REWARD: +5,000 KARMIC POINTS]

> [CURRENT BALANCE: -1,226,480]

And then another flickered,

> [MISSION COMPLETE: SANITATION & DISCIPLINE]

> [REWARD: +2,000 KARMIC POINTS]

> [CURRENT BALANCE: -1,224,480]

’Mission accomplished,’

Hana stood up, the finished, heavy silver fabric draped over her arm. It felt cold, like liquid metal that had been pulled from a deep river.

"Turn around," she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument to the two who were watching her, but they didn’t respond, as if she had just spoken a foreign language. What did she mean by ’turn around?’

Caspian, especially, was absentminded.

He had finished his chore an hour ago, and was sitting by her other side and honestly, his eyes were on her breasts rather than what she was working hard on.

He had a series of thoughts. Like, ’They look pretty, soft,’ ’I want to touch them, feel them under my claws,’ ’I want to taste them,’ ’Let me hold one,’

"Caspian!" Hana snapped and he flinched. He had been too focused on her breast to even realize she was done. "Turn around. Both of you." She glared at them. "I’m putting this on. If I catch either of you peeking, I’m going to test how strong this string is by tying your tails together."

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