Apocalypse: Transmigrated with an Overlord System-Chapter 237: Shackled

The sound of crackling fire echoed faintly in the cave. Liora stirred.

Her body felt like it had been trampled. Her limbs were heavy, her head foggy, and her mouth tasted like dust and copper. Her back ached from the hard ground beneath her, and as she blinked slowly awake, she realized something wasn’t right.

She tried to move—only to find her wrists and ankles tightly bound.

Her eyes widened.

Thick wines wrapped around her limbs in sharp knots, biting into her skin. She couldn’t even shift her position. Her entire body had been tied in a side-laying posture, like a discarded doll.

Instantly, a wave of caution settled over her.

Someone else was in the cave.

She could hear them breathing. The heavy, uneven rhythm of someone moving just a few feet away. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain calm. Panic wouldn’t help.

She tried calling her system mentally.

System? she whispered in her mind. Are you there?

No response.

Just silence.

She closed her eyes briefly, recalling what system had said before—the system had used the last of its strength to hack the room she escaped from, and was likely rebooting after suffering damage in the process. That man’s program was far more advanced than theirs, and system had warned her that this might happen.

"I have to handle this on my own," she muttered under her breath, voice barely audible.

Her body was still weak—her energy had been drained completely when she summoned her powerful shadow beast. It had protected her during the escape, but the price was steep. Her core felt dry, her strength shaky.

Still, she was grateful.

At least she had escaped Kazren’s white room. Even though she didn’t fully understand who—or what—he truly was, every part of her instincts had screamed that staying there would lead to something worse than death.

But now... this?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

They were slow, dragging.

And then, the stench hit her.

Liora gagged, turning her face away in disgust.

It smelled like rotting meat mixed with old sewage. Her stomach flipped, and she almost retched.

What the hell... Did this man bathe in dung?

"Awake already?" a raspy, mocking voice said from behind her. She couldn’t see him—her body was still bound, her head turned sideways on the cave floor—but she could hear the smugness in his tone.

Then came the sound of sizzling meat.

A stick poked at her lips.

"Hungry?" the man drawled, waving a half-burnt skewer of mutated beast meat near her face. The grease dripped onto her cheek. "Smells good, doesn’t it?"

She turned her face away sharply.

The meat stank. Not just the meat—his entire presence was unbearable. The hand holding the stick was crusted with filth. She caught a whiff of the same awful scent from earlier, and her eyes watered.

"Hmph," the man chuckled darkly. "Too proud to eat, huh? Then go ahead and starve."

His voice was familiar. Deep, crude, and filled with a twisted sort of glee.

She narrowed her eyes.

I’ve heard this voice before...

And then, he walked around to her other side—and she finally saw his face.

Her eyes widened.

Lang Yao. The same man who had been sent as a spy into her base, who had tried to stir chaos in the base.

He grinned, showing yellowed teeth. His hair was matted, his face unshaven and bruised, and his clothes were still stained with blood and gods-knew-what else.

"Well," he said, squatting beside her with a crooked smile. "Never thought the day would come when I’d find you lying at my feet, bound and helpless."

Liora didn’t speak. She kept her expression calm, though her fists clenched behind her back.

Lang Yao leaned closer. "If you want food, you can beg. Or better—kiss my boot. Maybe I’ll give you a piece."

He stretched out his filthy foot toward her, laughing.

She turned her face away, silent.

He scowled, then chuckled again.

"You’re smart to stay quiet," he sneered. "But don’t think I’m stupid. I know what kind of you are."

He pulled something from his coat—a small pouch of dried leaves and crushed herbs.

"I already fed you this while you were unconscious," he said, shaking the pouch. "Toxic roots from the Scorched Hills. Your body might be strong, but even awakened ones get paralyzed if they eat enough of it."

He tapped the side of her neck. "I don’t know what kind of tricks you usually pull, but you won’t be using any powers now. I made sure of that."

So that’s why she felt so drained.

That bastard had poisoned her while she slept.

Lang Yao stood up and began pacing around the cave, talking like a madman.

"Everyone thinks I’m done for," he spat. "They think I’m dead. That the great Lang Yao fell to beasts. But I’m still alive! I survived it all—because I’m smarter than those idiots." freewёbnoνel.com

He laughed loudly, as if trying to convince himself.

Then he looked down at her again, his eyes filled with greed and malice.

"But now... now I’ve got you."

He knelt beside her again, his fingers brushing against the vines at her wrists.

"Do you know how many women have begged beneath me in this apocalypse?" Lang Yao sneered, voice low and oily as he leaned closer. "I don’t want to sell you. That would be a waste."

He crouched beside her, dragging the back of his knuckles along the filthy ropes that bound her wrist.

"I want you to break," he said, lips curling into a sick grin. "To crawl at my feet. To kiss my boots. To whimper like those other proud bitches who thought they were untouchable."

Liora said nothing. But inside, something cold and sharp twisted in her chest.

Lang Yao chuckled, standing back up with a stretch, bones cracking. His body was still weak—he winced when he moved too fast. But even so, the arrogance didn’t leave his face.

"I won’t touch you yet," he said. "Not now. My body’s still recovering. Intense... physical activity might rip open the wounds again. But a few days—just a few days—and you’ll be singing for me, sweetheart."

He limped back to his pile of cooked meat and tore a chunk off with his teeth.

"In the meantime," he muttered, mouth full, "I’ll watch you rot in those ropes. No food. No water. Just the smell of me and your pride eating you alive."

He looked over his shoulder, eyes glinting with filthy amusement.

"Then, when you’re desperate enough, you’ll beg. And I’ll make you say it. Word by word."

He laughed again with his yellow teeth showing.

Liora kept her expression blank, though bile burned the back of her throat.

This man wasn’t just disgusting. He was rotting from the inside. Filth in flesh. Every word he spoke reeked of pure jerk, the kind that had devoured so many women after the fall of civilization.