Beast World: They Hated Me, Then I Cooked Them Dinner
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
The run to Sector 4 felt like an eternity for Terra. Her lungs burned, and the cheap boots had rubbed the skin off her heels, leaving hot, stinging blisters. She tasted blood in the back of her throat. But Terra didn't stop.
While Terra ran, keeping her eyes fixed on Zev’s broad back as he cleared a path through the crowded, filthy streets, she aggressively interacted with the Kore AI in her mind. *Open system shop!* she commanded mentally.
The blue translucent screen flashed across her vision. Row upon row of items appeared. Weapons, blueprints, seeds, and medical supplies. Everything was priced in crypto-credits. *Filter by medical. Immediate trauma stabilization.*
The list narrowed. Her eyes darted to the top item.
[Advanced Medical Nano-gel]
Description: Instant cellular repair and hydration stabilization for severe organ degradation. Specifically effective for aquatic bio-forms experiencing desiccation.
Price: 450 Crypto-credits.
It was extortionate. It would drain almost all her starting funds. But Terra had zero choice. She couldn't buy food or shelter if she was dead. *Purchase.*
[Transaction Complete. Item stored in System Inventory. You may manifest it at will.]
"We're here," Zev stopped abruptly. Terra slammed into his back, bouncing off his hard muscles. She stumbled backward, gasping for air.
They were standing in front of a massive, decaying industrial warehouse. The metal siding was rusted brown, and the large loading doors were chained shut. Standing in front of the side entrance was a man. He was incredibly tall, easily six foot three, with broad shoulders and lean, predatory muscles. He wore a dark, tailored combat uniform that looked entirely out of place in the slums. His hair was a sharp, icy silver, and his eyes were the color of storm clouds.
Corbin Frye. Asset number three. His bio-form was a predatory avian—a silver falcon. He was arrogant, heavily elitist, and held absolute contempt for everything dirty and weak. Which included Terra.
Corbin looked up as they approached. His silver eyes locked onto Terra. She saw his nostrils flare in disgust as he took in her muddy clothes, wet hair, and the lack of toxic makeup on her face.
"You look like a drowned rat, Mason," Corbin said. His voice was smooth, cultured, but dripping with absolute venom. "What are you doing here? Did the Board finally kick you out of your ivory tower?"
"Move, Corbin," Terra ordered, stepping forward. She didn't have time for his elitist posturing.
Corbin didn't flinch. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the heavy metal door. "No," Corbin said simply. "You told me to guard this door. You told me not to let anyone in, especially not you, until Rhys begged for mercy. He hasn't begged. He hasn't made a sound in two days."
Corbin didn't know. He was guarding the door out of spite, strictly following the original Terra's cruel orders to punish her, refusing to break protocol. He thought Rhys was just being stubborn. He didn't realize Rhys was slipping into an irreversible coma.
"He's not making a sound because he's dying," Terra said, her voice shaking with adrenaline. "Open the door."
Corbin’s eyes narrowed. He looked past Terra to Zev. "Is this a trick?" Corbin asked Zev, ignoring Terra completely. "Did she come up with a new game?"
"Just open the door, Frye," Zev said. His voice was tight, anxious. "If he dies, the feedback loop hits us all."
Corbin’s arrogant facade cracked slightly. He stared at Zev for a second, reading the genuine urgency in the serpent's posture. Without another word, Corbin turned around. He punched a complex code into the rusted keypad next to the door. The heavy metal door clicked and slid open with a loud, grating screech. A blast of hot, incredibly dry air hit Terra’s face. It smelled like dust and copper.
Terra pushed past Corbin, ignoring his glare, and practically threw herself down the dark, concrete stairs leading into the sub-basement. The basement was entirely dark, save for a single flickering yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room, chained to the concrete floor by heavy, energy-dampening cuffs, was Rhys Donovan.
Terra’s breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful, in a tragic, broken way. His human torso was lean and highly defined, but his skin was a sickly, pale gray. It looked like parchment paper ready to crumble. His lower half was a massive, powerful aquatic tail, covered in iridescent blue scales. But the scales were no longer glowing. They were dull, flaking, and cracked. Deep, bleeding fissures ran along his waist where the human skin met the scales. He was entirely motionless. His chest barely moved.
"Rhys," Terra whispered, dropping to her knees on the hard concrete next to him. The air was so dry Terra’s own eyes stung. She reached out and pressed her fingers to his neck. His skin was terrifyingly hot and completely bone-dry. His pulse was a faint, erratic flutter, like a dying moth.
Corbin and Zev walked up behind Terra. She heard Corbin suck in a sharp breath. "He's... dried out," Corbin said, his cultured voice cracking. "I didn't know. The dampening cuffs suppressed his energy signature. I couldn't sense his decline."
"Get back," Terra ordered sharply. She didn't look at them. She kept her eyes on Rhys's chest.
Terra focused her mind. *Inventory. Manifest Nano-gel.* She reached into the pocket of her jacket. She felt the cold, metallic surface of a small cylinder materialize in her hand. She pulled it out. It was a heavy, military-grade syringe filled with a glowing, bright blue gel. Terra popped the cap off with her thumb.
"What is that?" Zev demanded, stepping forward. His massive hand gripped Terra’s shoulder. "You're not injecting him with more of your chemical trash!"
"It's medical grade nano-gel!" Terra yelled, shaking off his hand. "It will stabilize his cellular hydration! If you stop me, he dies in ten minutes!"
Zev hesitated. His grip loosened. Terra didn't wait for him to make up his mind. She leaned over Rhys. She found the thickest cluster of cracked scales near his waist, where his major arteries ran. Terra pressed the tip of the syringe against his skin and drove the plunger down.
You may also like
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
9.7
Agent Alivia Sanford opened her eyes to the suffocating stench of wild animal musk and raw sex.
She hadn't just transmigrated into a savage beastman world; she had woken up in the body of a 300-pound, diseased, and universally despised woman. Worse, the original owner had just drugged the tribe's strongest warrior, trying to force a mating.
Now, the warrior pinned her to the cave floor with murderous fury.
"You think you can trap me, you disgusting pig?" he snarled, ready to rip her throat out.
After kneeing him and escaping, a "Super Charm AI" bound to her mind demanded she conquer her five designated mates to survive. But these men treated her like a walking plague. They mocked her bloated face, threw bloody raw meat into the mud for her to eat, and publicly announced they would starve her to death. Even her own family looked at her with utter disgust.
In her past life, she was a legendary survivor who could have crushed these arrogant men with her bare hands. Now, she was trapped in a weak shell, threatened with soul erasure by a system if she didn't grovel for their affection. Why should she beg for love from beasts who wanted her dead?
Looking at the five "-100" hostility scores on her system panel, Alivia coldly drew a mental cross over each of their faces. Enduring agonizing pain, she forced her bio-manipulation ability to violently purge the toxins from her fat body. She wasn't going to play their twisted game; she was going to find her own resources and make them pay.
8.1
On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes.
She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia."
Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours.
He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity.
But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture."
I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her.
And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm.
Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite.
He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet.
He is wrong.
I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door.
And I changed the groom.
As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears.
The Reaper.
8.2
One night was supposed to be her escape. After catching her ex-boyfriend in the arms of her treacherous stepsister on her twenty-first birthday, Valerie sought the only mercy she could find: the numbing sting of alcohol. But the morning brought no peace-only a shattered spirit, a body marked by a stranger, and a memory wiped clean against her will.
Months later, Valerie is a woman reborn from the wreckage, landing a high-paying role at the prestigious Noir Group. But the dream quickly shifts into a polished nightmare. Her new boss is Ellan Noir-a ruthless CEO whose name commands the city and whose eyes hold an unmistakable, familiar darkness.
When a mistake in the executive lift threatens her career, Ellan offers a devil's bargain: a contract of total submission. To save her best friend Nora's failing heart, Valerie must become his private property, bound to his beck and call 24/7. As office politics bleed into a dangerous game of obsession, Valerie realizes the man who rules her career is the same shadow who owns her past.
Dragged into his world of chaos, Valerie discovers a truth that changes everything She decides to collide with Ellan's business rival y get revenge until she realises she is carrying his child. As she struggles to survive the predators in the Noir family, Ellan fights for his life in a hospital bed. With a baby's life hanging in the balance after a lethal post-birth injection, Valerie must decide if she can save the man who broke her-or if their twisted fate will end in tragedy.
7.1
To save my family from ruin, I remarried my billionaire ex-husband, Jaxon Lowe. He held my late mother' s locket hostage, forcing me back into a gilded cage where I endured his cold contempt and his very public affair. I played the part of the silent, obedient wife he demanded, building a wall of ice around my heart just to survive.
But my obedience didn't protect me. He abandoned me in a torrential downpour to rescue his mistress, Ivory.
Then, he broke his one promise. He let Ivory have my mother's locket pulled from auction, the very reason for my sacrifice, simply because she found it "unlucky."
That final betrayal led me straight into the hands of his business rival, where I was tortured and left for dead.
But I survived.
Four months later, Jaxon found me. He stood before me, tears streaming down his face, holding the now-repaired locket and begging for forgiveness.
I took back what was mine.
"I want a divorce," I said, my voice calm and final. "And I never want to see you again."
7.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."