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Maya Cross slowly woke up to the sound of a whip cracking.
The first thing she saw was silver hair hanging down to someone's shoulders.
A man was kneeling on the metal floor. His bronze back was arched tight like a bow ready to snap. Every muscle on his body was tense with suppressed strength, yet whip marks cut across his skin like a road map of pain.
Fresh wounds were still bleeding. Red streams ran down his chest and stomach, gathering at his waist before dripping onto his pants.
When those dark red eyes lifted and locked onto hers, Maya felt as if her heart had been seized by ice-cold claws.
Those eyes were frozen with hate. Pure, undisguised hatred.
He tilted his head and looked at the energy whip in her hand. A cold smile touched his lips.
His voice was rough and low. Each word cut like a knife. "Stopping already? What, did your arm finally get tired?"
Holy shit! What the hell is happening? One second she had been working a double shift at Detroit General Hospital. The next second...
Strange memories crashed into her brain like a freight train.
Starships; Beastmen; Energy whips.
And the man kneeling in front of her.
Caleb Storm.
The youngest commander the Fifth Imperial Legion had ever produced. Snake beastman. Once, he had been one of the most promising A-rank beastman warriors in the Federation.
Then everything collapsed.
During a military operation on the border colonies, Caleb had refused an order to slaughter civilians suspected of hiding rebel forces. That refusal should have made him a hero.
Instead, it ruined him.
His superior framed him for treason, stripped him of command, and watched his mental rank fall from A to C after a brutal interrogation nearly destroyed his neural core.
By the time Marcus Cross found him, Caleb was no longer the shining commander of the Fifth Imperial Legion.
He was damaged property.
A fallen warrior with a broken future.
And Marcus had bought him anyway.
Maya's breath caught as more memories surged through her.
The five beastmen bound to her were all rare high-level warriors in the galaxy. Every one of them had once stood far above ordinary males. Every one of them possessed terrifying potential.
But because of different disasters, betrayals, and injuries, they had all been forced to fall from high rank to low rank.
In this world, beastman warrior ranks went from F to S.
Her father, Marcus Cross, was one of only two S-rank beastman warriors in the entire galaxy.
To make sure his precious daughter would one day possess the most powerful beast-husband legion, Marcus had gathered these five wounded but formidable beastmen-men with limitless potential, men who might rise again if given the chance.
And he had presented them to his daughter as her coming-of-age gift.
This was that trashy sci-fi reverse-harem novel she had stayed up reading last night.
Fuck. She cursed silently.
Oh my God. This face, the silver hair, the red eyes. Every detail matched the book perfectly.
She had actually transmigrated into the story.
And worse, she had transmigrated into the psycho villain everyone wanted dead.
In this world, humans had been forced to genetically modify themselves after the environment collapsed. They mixed human DNA with animal DNA and became beastmen. But the process killed most people.
Female survival rates were terrifyingly low. Less than five percent of the population were Females. To preserve their reproductive ability, Females could not fully transform.
This left them defenseless.
Just when beastman civilization finally stabilized, space bugs called Zerg invaded the galaxy.
They specifically attacked beastman settlements.
This made the already rare Females even more precious.
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