Yandere Levelling in Her World-Chapter 178 - 179: A Committed Traitor

Meiling slumped against the charred brick wall, knees drawn up, chest heaving like she'd just run a marathon through hell.

Her clothes hung in ragged strips, exposing scrapes that still wept blood. The fire she'd coaxed from splintered wood crackled between them, roasting three skewered fish she'd caught from the nearby water body.

The smell salty, smoky, almost comforting should have made her stomach growl. Instead, it just reminded her how long it'd been since she'd eaten anything that wasn't emergency rations.

The man sat two feet away, back straight, eyes fixed on the flames as if they owed him money. His clothes were no better, torn, salt-crusted, the kind of disheveled that looked deliberate on someone else but made him seem... fragile.

Like a porcelain doll someone had dropped and glued back together wrong. His face, though. That was what kept dragging her gaze back.

Gray eyes. Same sharp angle to his cheekbones. Even the way his hair fell across his forehead messy.

If she didn't know better, she'd swear it was Ren sitting there, a much older version of him that is.

"You know," Meiling said, voice rough from smoke and screaming, "if you don't even run away when a monster attacks, it's hard for me to protect you."

The man didn't look up. Just kept staring into the fire. "Don't worry about me. True, they sense my presence. But none of them can do anything to me."

Meiling snorted, poking one of the fish with her knife. "How are you so sure about that?"

Silence. Again. Just the wind whistling through the ruined street and the distant crash of waves against what used to be a seawall.

She clicked her tongue. This was how it had been since they'd escaped the chameleon-thing, him answering only the questions he felt like answering, her trailing after him like some stray cat that thought he had treats.

Sometimes she wondered what she was even doing here. The sensible thing would be to ditch him, find Ren, and...

"Here." She pulled one fish off the spit, holding it out. Grease dripped onto her fingers. "Eat this. You'll feel better."

The man looked at the fish. Then at her. His expression shifted, something between confusion and... recognition? Then he laughed. Not a polite chuckle, but a full-body, hysterical laugh that made his shoulders shake. He pressed a hand to his mouth, but it didn't stop, just came out muffled between his fingers.

Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Actual tears. "You haven't changed a bit, Meiling." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

The fish slipped from her fingers, landing in the dirt with a pathetic splat. "What?"

His laughter died as suddenly as it started. The empty look returned. "No. I can't eat. I'm not human." He turned away, staring at the horizon where the ocean biome bled into the ruined city. "Take me to him. You can feel him, don't you? I know you can. At this point in your relationship, you should have eloped with him by now."

Heat flooded her face. "How do you—"

She couldn't finish. The words tangled in her throat, half-formed protests and questions and something dangerously close to panic.

She stood too quickly, knees protesting, and stalked off toward the edge of the building. The wind hit her like a slap, cooling the blush she knew was spreading from her cheeks to her ears.

Behind her, she heard him mutter, "Ah. How nostalgic. If only these women didn't try to kill me."

She froze. Women? Plural?

The man continued talking to himself, voice low. "I wonder what she's doing in this world right now. By this time around, she should have become human completely. Given up being an angel."

Meiling's hands tightened on the rusted railing. Angel? She had a bitter feeling about it.

"Loop," he whispered. The word tasted wrong. Like he'd bitten into something rotten.

"—continues no matter what," the man was saying. "And I can't end it. What an annoying life this is. I hope this Ren is the final one."

He went quiet. Meiling waited, counting heartbeats. One. Two. Three. When she turned, he had his eyes closed, head tilted back against the brick. Almost peaceful, except for the way his hands trembled in his lap.

She walked back slowly, crouching to pick up the dropped fish. It was ruined, but she brushed off the worst of the dirt anyway. "Hey."

His eyes opened. Just slits. "What?"

"Who are you really?"

A long pause. Then, softly: "Does it matter?"

"To me? Yeah. Kinda."

He smiled, actually smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm the man who keeps dying. Over and over. That's all you need to know."

Meiling sat back on her heels. "That doesn't answer anything."

"No," he agreed. "It doesn't."

She wanted to shake him. Or slap him. Or maybe just walk away and never look back. But something held her there. Maybe the way his voice cracked on "dying." Maybe the fact that he looked like Ren.

Maybe the way he'd laughed like he knew her, really knew her, and she couldn't stand not knowing why.

"Tell me one thing," she said finally. "Will you harm my Ren?"

The man's gaze drifted to the horizon again. "No I want to save him. He will die without me."

"Fuck...this is annoying. Why can't you just tell me the full story?"

He shrugged.

Meiling's stomach twisted. "Fine, keep your secerts,"

***

The squad of women trudged back into the fortified bunker, their boots echoing against the cold concrete floors. The air inside was thick with the hum of generators and the faint scent of recycled oxygen.

They were clad in sleek military suits, reinforced with plated armor that gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. Gas masks dangled from their belts now, no longer needed in the safety of the monster filled city.

Sweat glistened on their brows as they peeled off their helmets one by one, revealing faces hardened by endless patrols in the wasteland above.

"Damn, that was a haul," grunted a woman, the tallest of the group, shaking out her short-cropped black hair. She slung her energy rifle over her shoulder, the weapon's blue core pulsing faintly like a captured storm. "Those power bearers think they're gods with their fancy abilities, but look at us regular folks turning the tide."

The others murmured in agreement, clustering around a low bench in the debriefing room. Helmets clattered to the ground as they sat, wiping grime from their faces.

The patrol had been grueling: scouting the ruined surface for those elusive "power bearers" mutated humans who wielded unnatural energies and the monstrous creatures that followed in their wake. But today, we struck gold.

"I hate them," spat another woman, a wiry brunette with scars crisscrossing her cheeks. She cradled her energy pistol, thumbing the activation switch to watch the blue plasma coil inside the barrel.

Another woman lifted her rifle, admiring the sleek design. The energy core hummed, casting a ethereal blue glow across her features. "Remember the old slug-throwers? Useless against those energy shields. But this baby? Blue plasma cuts right through. I vaporized three monsters today poof, gone in a flash of azure light. No mess, no fuss."

The group laughed, a rough, cathartic sound. "I took down a power bearer myself," boasted black haired woman, flexing her gloved hand. "The freak tried to blast me with some red lightning crap, but I dodged and hit her square in the chest.

The blue energy just... ate through him. Melted his shield like butter. These weapons are a miracle. Whoever engineered them deserves a medal."

"Seriously, though, I appreciate this tech. Makes me feel invincible. No more running scared from those abominations."

As the banter flowed, a blonde woman at the edge of the group finally removed her helmet. Her hair cascaded in golden waves, framing a face of striking beauty, high cheekbones, full lips, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken storms.

Luxy, they called her, though few knew her real name. She set her helmet down gently, her expression a mix of exhaustion and quiet triumph.

"It really was a good hunt," Luxy muttered, her voice soft but carrying an edge of steel. She ran a hand through her hair, staring at the blue-glowing rifle in her lap. "Who would have thought we'd actually find power holders this time? A whole nest of them, skulking in that ruined tower. I'm sure we were useful this time. Our commander always complains we're useless just cannon fodder in suits. But today? We proved her wrong."

The others nodded vigorously. "Hell yeah, Luxy! You led the charge on that last one," a woman said, punching her arm lightly. "That power bearer with the tentacle arms? You fried him before he could blink."

Luxy offered a faint smile, but her eyes remained distant. The energy weapon in her hands felt warm, almost alive.

Before she could say more, a petite woman with dark curls sidled up, slinging an arm over Luxy's shoulder. Her touch was casual, sisterly, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Who would have thought Luxy would become such a main star here?" She muttered, giving her a playful squeeze.

"From vicitim of the incident to monster-slayer extraordinaire. If only there were a few men around for us to celebrate with, huh? A proper victory party."

The group erupted in laughter again, the tension of the patrol melting away. "Men," echoed one of the women, leaning back against the wall. "Well, men prefer us over those greedy power holders who abuse them. Those freaks treat normals like slaves, draining their life force or whatever. We understand men better. We fight alongside them, protect them. They love us better, look at how many volunteered to work with us down here. nurses, caretakers even cooks."

One of the women grinned wickedly. "Exactly. We should visit one of the brothels they've built here inside the city. You know, the ones in Sector 7? Dim lights, soft beds, no judgments. After a patrol like this, we deserve some fun. Those guys worship us strong women who keep the monsters at bay and treat them like humans."

The conversation shifted, voices overlapping in excited whispers. "I heard there's a new one with private rooms," Kira added. "And the men there? I heard they let you fuck whole 30 seconds. That's crazy."

But Luxy had gone quiet. She stood abruptly, pressing a hand to her temple as if warding off a headache. Her blue eyes clouded with pain, and she turned away, walking toward the far end of the room. The energy rifle clattered forgotten on the bench.

"Hey, Luxy, what's wrong?" One of her friends called, her arm dropping as concern creased her brow. The others fell silent, watching her retreating figure.

Luxy didn't respond at first, just kept walking, her shoulders tense. Mira exchanged glances with the group. "She's doing it again," Mira muttered under her breath, leaning in close to the others. "Every time men are mentioned, she just looks sad. Acts like that distant, pained."

A woman nodded, her voice a whisper. "Well, she might be one of those committed girls. You know, the type who actually had a man's love before all this crap hit. Something real, deep. None of us had that. We'll never understand her. Probably lost him in the Fall, or to a power bearer killed him. Poor thing."

Another woman sighed, picking up Luxy's helmet and turning it over in her hands. "Yeah, leave her be. She'll snap out of it. But damn, if she doesn't make me wonder what that's like real love, not just... convenience."