Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 92 --

After a few more minutes of smiling, nodding, and carefully timed "oohs" and "ahhs," Kaya finally did it.

She managed to fool the little lord into giving her a tour of the ocean.

Technically, she’d "convinced" him. Realistically? She’d outwitted him.

He swam ahead of her now, proudly flicking his tail with every word, babbling about the magnificence of his tribe, the richness of their coral estates, the elegance of their fish schools and treasure caves.

Kaya nodded absently.

But her mind? It wasn’t on the scenery.

Her eyes scanned the dark blue depths around her, the jagged coral shelves beneath, the shifting currents. She wasn’t sightseeing.

She was planning.

Plotting.

She wasn’t afraid of fighting one shark. One she could handle. One meant a straight fight, a test of skill, a survival chance.

But a group of sharks?

Beastmen sharks?

That was another story. No one knew just how powerful they were. And she wasn’t about to bet her neck on a mystery.

Her first problem? Her gun.

Useless.

If she fired it now, underwater, the shot would lose speed. The pressure alone could mess with the mechanism. The bullet might split, flower into fragments—or worse, just stop mid-water like an awkward air bubble.

She was already deep. She could touch the ocean floor with her toes if she wanted to. Not the center of the ocean, sure—but deep enough that her sense of direction was starting to blur.

Kaya clenched her jaw slightly, narrowing her eyes.

No high ground. No cover. No allies. No working firearm.

And even if she somehow managed to fire it—and even if the bullet reached its mark—there was only one real way to guarantee a kill: point-blank. Zero range.

But getting that close?

Close enough for a shark to rip her arm—or her head—clean off?

No. Not happening.

She liked her neck attached.

So she needed another option.

A better one.

She continued swimming beside the little lord, pretending to listen to his excited lecture about seaweed farms and pearl trade routes, her mind racing.

If she was going to get out of this alive, she needed to find a way to kill or trap a group of beast-sharks underwater—with no gun, no army, and definitely no backup.

A small smile tugged at her lips—not the sweet kind. The dangerous kind.

She’d think of something.

She always did.

Then it struck her.

A faint memory from her school days surfaced—one of those boring survival science lectures that, back then, she thought she’d never need.

Sharks.

Predators like them had hypersensitive hearing. They could pick up frequencies between 10 to 800 hertz. And not only that—they hated certain sounds. Especially erratic, vibration-heavy noises that grated their senses. freēwēbnovel.com

That kind of sound could drive them off.

It was a sliver of hope. A possibility.

The problem?

She had no tools. No tech. No gear. Not even a half-decent team backing her up.

Just herself.

But then again... that had always been enough.

Kaya frowned in thought, recalling the rest of the lesson. The trick wasn’t complicated—but it required precision.

She’d written it in her notes:

Trap enough air between two rocks, or shells, and release it systematically.

The sudden compression and burst of air would cause vibration—a jarring sound underwater that most predators, especially sharks, couldn’t stand. It didn’t harm them, but it disoriented them enough to drive them away.

Sharks were fast, brutal, and cunning—but they didn’t linger where the sound irritated their senses.

That was her opening.

Her only shot.

She scanned the surrounding ocean floor, her eyes flicking across shells, stones, coral ridges.

Yes. It was risky. One wrong setup and the noise wouldn’t carry. Worse, it could attract attention instead of driving it away. But right now, she didn’t have better options.

If she were on land—on her turf—she’d have splashed water, thrown stones, maybe used large leaves to disorient the shark’s hunting patterns.

But here? She was out of her element.

No solid footing.

No trees.

No wind.

Just water, pressure, and instincts.

She had to make noise. Loud enough, chaotic enough, annoying enough to make a beast think, Not worth it.

Then it hit her like a slap from cold water.

Wait a minute.

She didn’t have a team... but someone else did.

Someone very proud, very loud, and very obsessed with appearances.

Kaya stopped swimming so abruptly that the current curled around her ankles. Her eyes narrowed with sudden purpose.

And before the little lord could even finish his latest monologue about coral beds and pearl carvings, she grabbed his tail.

Firmly.

Yanked.

The little lord let out a very un-lordly yelp, nearly spinning as he twisted back in shock, his pale face flushing crimson. A ripple of color danced through his shimmering mane like someone had dropped a jewel into it.

"What the—!?" he squeaked, tail flicking in offended panic. "Are you crazy?! Do you have shame or not?!"

Kaya didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just floated there, arms crossed, staring dead into his soul.

Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

"That’s exactly like cutie," she muttered under her breath, as if that explained everything.

The little lord narrowed his eyes. "What? What’s that supposed to—?"

"Where is your master?" Kaya cut in, her voice suddenly sharp, cold, and purposeful. "I need to talk to him."

The little lord stared at her, blinking hard like he just got slapped by seaweed. Her mood had flipped faster than an octopus spilling ink.

"What? Master? You were just asking about scenic traveling motions a second ago!"

Kaya waved a hand dismissively. "Forget it."

"No, what do you mean—?"

"I said," she repeated, louder, firmer, "Where is your master? I need to speak to him."

"Why?" he asked warily, eyes narrowing again. "What now?"

Kaya leaned forward, her voice low and serious. "Tell him I want to talk shark hunting."

That made him go still.

Kaya waited.

And waited.

More than twenty minutes had passed—give or take, not that she had a watch underwater. But the time dragged like an anchor.

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