Blood dripped down her chin. Her body hung, knees grazing concrete, arms stretched high by cold steel shackles.
One of the female guards shoved her again. "Still smirking?" the woman sneered.
The second guard circled behind Elara, baton in hand. "We'll break that smug face soon enough."
Elara breathed slowly through her nose, pain a dull roar in her muscles. Her head throbbed, her ribs ached, but her eyes burned with lucid fire.
She wanted them close.
The second guard stepped within range—sloppy, overconfident.
Elara waited for the baton swing.
It came. Diagonal strike. Right to her ribs.
Too predictable.
Elara twisted her entire torso left, using her chained arms for rotational force, causing the baton to graze rather than land solidly.
Then—she struck.
Her left knee shot out, smashing directly into the attacker's shin. The moment the guard buckled slightly, Elara used her body's backward swing to deliver a vicious mule kick straight into her kneecap.
CRACK!
The woman screamed, dropping the baton and falling to one side.
The first guard rushed forward.
Perfect.
Elara pushed off the ground with both knees, generating swing force from her shackled arms, and snapped her forehead into the guard's nose. Blood burst out.
Before the woman could fall back, Elara locked her ankles behind the guard's thigh and wrenched sideways, bringing her down hard to the floor.
Despite her weight hanging above, Elara braced her body, used her own swinging motion from the chains, and landed both knees into the fallen guard's gut.
OOMPH!
The woman gasped, wind knocked out.
Elara had no hands, but her legs were lethal.
She spun her lower body sideways and hammered her heel into the side of the guard's jaw.
One down.
The other guard, recovering from her broken kneecap, drew a knife—limping but furious.
Elara growled, kicking her fallen comrade's dropped baton into her attacker's direction—a feint.
When the guard flinched, Elara used the chain above as a suspension pivot, swinging her full body toward the limping woman and launching a flying knee into her abdomen.
THUMP.
The woman folded over. Elara, still hanging, wrapped one leg around the woman's neck in a brutal triangle choke, using the momentum and gravity to pull her down with her weight.
The woman dropped like a sack of bricks.
Two down.
Elara panted hard, arms burning, vision swimming—but her back stayed straight as the chains creaked above her.
A smile curled on her bloody lips.
"Spetsnaz rule number one," she whispered to the unconscious bodies below. "Pain is just a visitor. But death stays forever."
She had awaited this moment for what felt like an eternity, enduring relentless pain and repeated strikes since she became aware of her dire predicament. Despite the brutal hits, Elara felt an unusual warmth spreading through her body, as if a void within her was being filled with pure, unadulterated energy.
Initially, she thought she might be suffering from hallucinations due to the extreme stimuli, but she soon realized her advantage. Her body was indeed gaining strength and endurance gradually. She even sensed a peculiar feeling akin to the ones she had experienced during recovery sessions after being injured in battle.
The lightness and refreshing coziness that followed exhaustion were irreplaceable. Her health was recovering. All those injuries were healing as seconds ticked by. Even the itchiness from the recent whiplash on her skin revealed the ferocity of her body's regenerative system.
Instead of the weakness that should have surrounded a victim in captivity, she felt quite the opposite, and she knew this oddity must be due to the transmigration or the system.
So, she directly queried the Crisis Response System, and the genderless voice acknowledged her guess. It wasn't the system's doing; it was purely herself. Her unique soul had brought about shocking changes that the system couldn't explain, leading Elara to curse and mock the system to vent her prior dissatisfaction.
Everything she had achieved and meant to achieve was completed solely by her, without external help, provided she didn't consider the strengthening perk on her aura at the moment.
The more she examined her system, the more her unhappiness grew. Although the Crisis Response System's origin and its goals stood on high moral ground and were something she ideally desired to succeed in and assist, she wasn't foolish enough to immediately place the system in the role of the good guy.
She had matured and learned harsh realities, even losing her life and companions. For now, she would wait and see what her system truly was.
If it behaved as it should, Elara would gladly help. She could accept being swindled after taking advantage, but she would never relent if the system acted against her morals. Even if bound by her carelessness, Elara remained confident she could thwart the entire relationship and dominate it.
Glancing at the unconscious figures, Elara shook her head. As expected from gangsters, these three were nothing special.
Of course, this assumption was built on the prospect that she ignored the man's two female bodyguards. These two weren't simple during the fight. They were merely a little caught off guard because Elara had upgraded her capabilities.
She yanked her wrists above and frowned at the clanging. Looking around, she found nothing that could be useful to break the chains.
Even though she had solved the immediate dangers, her situation hadn't improved. For a moment, she regretted losing patience and acting sooner. Maybe she should have waited longer to understand the escape mechanism or investigate the whereabouts of the keys. The worst case—she could have acted very weak and pitiful to gain sympathy and lower her opponents' guard, something she disdained to do.
Yet, if she had kept enduring, she knew this bastard would have pressed on more. By then, the results wouldn't have been too different.
At least, the current silence brought subtle joy to her ears, which were dull from curses and degradations.
'System, it's now your turn to shine. Don't be a turtle. Till now, it's only me solving problems, apart from you shoving into this body. Help me escape this bondage,' Elara complained in her mental network.
[Administrator, your tone didn't match the criteria of requesting assistance.]
'F***, you now understand the criteria. Hassle up and help me or believe me, you will really offend me,' Elara threatened her system.
She concluded that her weird perks and advantages sustained a favorable position during negotiations. There surely was something inside her that the Crisis Response System desired and had caution about.
Perhaps her current existence might not be able to affect the system, but who could ascertain the future? Oh no, her system could utilize data to calculate future trajectories. Oops... Elara restrained her cockiness and coughed to attract the system's attention.
She wasn't afraid of the latter, but she definitely didn't want to wear small shoes provided by the system.
'Look, system, I'm tied up and need to get out ASAP. Any advice?' Elara asked.
[You can actually escape on your own, Administrator.]
Elara's brow raised at the response. She had the potential to break free? 'I have no idea, System. I still need your guidance.'
Alas, bowing her head sometimes was for the greater good in the future. Maybe she would find out the answer herself, but the opportune time would never be as perfect as now.
[Suggestion: try to concentrate and imagine snapping off the chain. Your willpower is the key factor to escape from here.]
'Think and everything will flow according to my mind,' Elara repeated the system's advice in disbelief. She wondered if she had heard it wrong. How could this be possible?
Was her overbearing system toying her on purpose to express its stance?
The system already understood Elara's low level of acceptance and explained further. [Administrator, please refrain from locking yourself in and setting boundaries. You need to always observe and consider outside the box. Since your soul is special enough to absorb radiation and mutate in a positive direction, further consolidating yourself during void travel, it was only natural that your soul possesses unimaginable power.]
'Then, why don't I feel a thing?'
[Think of yourself as a higher-dimensional creature. Limited by the rules of the universe, some power will be restricted. Even then, it's only natural for a tiny portion to flow through as time passes. It will take a long time before you can access everything allowed in the 3D universe.]
'Oh, so my outrageous endurance level and strength building up are the results of my soul's golden finger.' Elara quickly associated her awesome changes. 'I am about to become a psionic powerhouse.'
[Correct, but the power in the early stage would be minimal. Naturally, you have the potential to breakthrough, but the system advises taking a slow, steady pace for long-term benefit.]
'Eh, now I understand why you chose me. Sure enough, nobody is special; there's always a reason for a result. Anyway, I'll listen to your recommendations since I'm sure with your presence such power is unnecessary. Thanks for your words,' Elara didn't hesitate to respond with gratitude, even if she had solid opinions about her 'parasite.'
[Anytime, Administrator.] The system heaved a sigh of relief inside the quantum space, noticing Elara's change in opinion about its existence.
It knew its previous overbearing actions and lies must have raised her guard and could ruin future cooperation between the two parties.
It swore it never had the slightest intention of harming Elara or its host. Initially, for survival, it was guilty of swindling energy, but with proper guidance later on, it was fairly certain to gain Elara's trust again.
Meanwhile, unaware of her system's concerns, Elara shut her eyes and concentrated. Her forehead sweated as awful seconds ticked by. No matter how much she doubted, it didn't hurt to follow her system's direction. After all, she was special since her transmigration differed from others—or so she assumed.
While others received truck-kun treatment or isekai, a missile with a nuclear payload struck her. Not just any ordinary one, but a hypersonic, the latest version. Missile-kun or nuclear-kun, an absolute masterpiece, and meeting the weirdest system quite to her liking too albeit love and hate connection.
Just when Elara thought it was impossible, her wrist felt a small tremor. The movement grew stronger, and the vibration entered her ears. She couldn't believe the miracle and almost opened her eyes to see the results, but she withheld the daunting exhilaration to avoid ruining her hard-earned progress.
Break. Break. Please break.
Elara heard a crack, so small, but in her ears, it was extremely loud. She looked up and saw a chain snapped in the middle between her two wrist locks. A pair of arms yanked in opposite directions, setting herself free. Her figure fell from the force, crouching on the cold floor.
She poised herself and chuckled, sneering at the fallen bodies around her. Her dress might be ruined, and her skin bore wounds of humiliation and pain, but the final victory belonged to her.
[Alert, Administrator. You have yet to escape from the den of thieves. Please control your mindset and act stable.]
Elara blushed at the words and humphed. "I know. As a soldier, I would never fail to consider the dire consequences of arrogance."
Afterward, she caressed her skin gently and expressed admiration at the texture. The quality absolutely bashed her past life's skin. This body really preserved beauty at its peak, and the youthfulness was something she missed.
'Thank you, system. Without you, I would have never succeeded so quickly,' Elara paid her due tribute.
[Anytime, Administrator. Will provide due aid when needed.]
Elara returned a playful salute to the air and studied the environment, not forgetting to pay heed to the three unconscious figures. She also requested the system to monitor their states and inform her immediately once they showed signs of recovery.
Elara began undressing one of the female bodyguard's clothes. She chose the one who had slapped her face hard. Hmph, since she dared to hurt her, let her be naked as revenge.
Fortunately, although destroyed, she still had her own underwear, so she didn't need to wear others'. Just the outer clothes were enough to solve her dilemma.
Playfully tweaking the bodyguard's breasts and hips in the process, Elara reluctantly withdrew her hand after slapping the two women's face as payback—they deserved punishment to allow fellow woman to suffer—and focused on the man . An important figure that would decide her escape. Should she kill everyone here? Too bad, there were no sharp killing tools nearby.
The reason she was a bit hesitant to be ruthless belonged to the former expression she had taken note of under torture—the reaction of those women seemed to show distress and dislike of her scenario. Only when she thrashed the man hard did they react fiercely.
Not that she showed silly kindness, but she spotted something amiss with this man. These women expressed subtle, hidden but powerful admiration and loyalty to the man. It was surely not fear as seen in criminal gangs.
From Elara's perspective, none of his exteriors or interiors, as far as she had observed, proved the former conjecture. He didn't deserve the slightest respect. His fighting power was weak. His kink proved his inner vulnerability.
He must be the type to blame others for his mistakes and target the weak when bullied. She couldn't relate any reasons for the two women's wasteful sacrifice. If there were fears involved, she could probably understand the underlying relationship as superiors and subordinates.
She had the urge to unveil, and her instincts spoke of great benefits if she managed to uncover the mystery.
Well, run away first and talk about this later, Elara's calculative rationality returned.
Then, her ears twitched, and she stared at the man's limp body. Chuckling coldly, she knelt near and smacked the back of his head hard.
"Stop pretending. I know you're awake."
"Bitch!" The man gasped and cursed.
She didn't need the system's help. With her alertness, his hidden behaviors shone bright as a diamond in the darkness.
She delivered another slap after hearing his swear words. The man curled inward, protecting himself from the beating.
Standing up, Elara pushed with her heel so that the man's body turned and his eyes faced upward.
Snap!
She kicked him on the side, eliciting a lengthened hiss.
"Why? Can't stand your own pain? Not too surprising from a coward, I suppose."
Taking a glance at his bodyguards, Elara mocked again:
"Why don't I stomp your precious jewels so that you don't have the mood to think about your desire?"
Her heel hovered above his groin as she spoke. Her tone sounded patient and even gentle.
But to the man's ears, her words sparked shivering fright and panicked eyes.
"No, no. Don't. You can't."
Elara smiled and nodded.
"Don't be scared. The effect is instant. You won't know what's coming next."
When Elara lifted her foot to stomp hard, the man screamed hurriedly.
"Wait, yes…Mira! If anything happens to me, your Mira will be harmed!"
Her foot hung in the air, and the man exhaled hard, repeatedly breathing in and out fast. He dared not fathom the idea of not saying these words.
On the other hand, Elara narrowed her eyes. She didn't care about his threat, but her body responded, wrecking nerves throughout.
An unknown fear and worry popped into her heart. Mira was indeed someone dear to her, even if she had yet to read all the memories.
Who is she?
Her eyes reddened from a simple reflection. Tears well up and slowly drained along the cheeks.
Elara brushed the pearls away and was stunned to speak. She was crying. She forgot she could cry—even in this new body.
During torture, she didn't let out the slightest cries but she did because of a name.