Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 60 - Fifty Nine

Zade could only make muffled, angry grunting sounds. He bit down hard on the rag, tears of pure frustration and helplessness streaming down his bruised face. Austin, tied to his back, sobbed quietly into the darkness.

The leader smiled a wide, ugly smile. He rubbed his large, dirty hands together in eager anticipation. He was going to have a very good time.

He turned away from the tied-up boys and walked slowly toward the small, dark doorway of the inner room.

Inside the inner room, the air was thick and smelled strongly of mold and cheap candle wax. The room was very small. There was no window, only a single, flickering oil lamp sitting on a broken wooden crate.

The only piece of furniture in the room was a small, dirty bed pushed against the far wall. The mattress was thin and stained, covered with a rough, grey woolen blanket.

Camilla walked right over to the dirty bed. She sat down completely comfortably on the edge of the thin mattress. She spread her hands out flat on the bed behind her, leaning her weight back onto her palms.

She lifted her legs and crossed them neatly at the ankles. She began swinging her crossed legs back and forth, casually kicking the air.

"Finally," Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was dark, cold, and incredibly happy. "A normal, non-magical, completely human target. No plot armor. No magical backlash. Just me and a very bad man. I can finally release all my stress."

The heavy wooden door creaked loudly as it opened.

The bald leader stepped into the small room. The gang member who had guided Camilla was standing just inside the doorway.

The leader looked at the man and jerked his head toward the hallway. "Leave," the leader commanded roughly. "And do not disturb me until I come out."

"Yes, boss," the man replied with an ugly grin.

He stepped backward and closed the heavy wooden door firmly. The loud sound of the iron lock clicking into place echoed in the small room. They were completely alone.

The leader turned his attention back to the bed. He looked at Camilla sitting there, swinging her legs. The dim, flickering yellow light from the oil lamp fell across her beautiful face and her bright red hair.

The leader’s eyes grew wide with pure lust. He licked his dry lips.

"I never expected that boy’s sister to be this beautiful," the leader whispered to himself. His rough voice was full of greedy amazement. He had expected a plain, boring noble girl. He did not expect a woman who looked like a dangerous, breathtaking painting.

He began to walk slowly toward her. His heavy boots thumped loudly against the wooden floorboards.

As he walked, he reached up with his fingers. He grabbed the top of his leather vest. He started removing the buttons of his top, pulling the dirty fabric apart to reveal his hairy, scarred chest.

"I guess I will make do with this one for now," the leader said out loud. He smiled his ugly, yellow smile again. He thought she was sitting quietly because she was completely paralyzed by fear. He thought she had completely surrendered to him.

Camilla stopped swinging her legs.

She looked at his ugly smile. She looked at his hands unbuttoning his vest.

Camilla slowly smiled back at him.

But her smile was not sweet. It was not innocent. It did not hold a single trace of fear or submission.

Her smile was sharp, cold, and deeply predatory. The corners of her pink lips curled upward, but her eyes remained completely dead and empty. It was the smile of a hungry wolf looking at a very slow, very stupid sheep.

"Yes," Camilla spoke out loud. Her voice was smooth, dark, and incredibly calm. "Now it is just the two of us here."

The leader paused for half a second. He noticed the strange tone in her voice, but his arrogance pushed the warning away. He took another step closer to the bed.

Camilla uncrossed her legs. She placed her feet firmly on the floor. She pushed her hands against the mattress and slowly stood up.

She walked slowly directly toward him.

Her movements were entirely different now. She did not walk like a polite noblewoman. She walked like a predator. She swayed her hips smoothly with every deliberate step. Her body was completely relaxed, yet perfectly balanced and ready to strike at lightning speed.

As she walked closer to him, her facial expressions changed completely. The fake, polite mask completely vanished. Her face became incredibly serious, hard, and undeniably dangerous. The aura surrounding her shifted from a quiet girl to a lethal, cold-blooded killer.

The bald leader stopped walking. His hands froze on the buttons of his vest. He frowned deeply.

He suddenly felt a strange, cold chill run all the way down his spine. The small, beautiful woman walking toward him no longer looked like a helpless victim. She looked like death itself wearing a grey tunic.

Camilla stopped right in front of him. She was much shorter than his massive frame, but she looked up into his eyes with absolute, terrifying dominance.

She tilted her head slightly to the side. Her deadly smile grew just a tiny bit wider.

"Go ahead," Camilla whispered softly, her voice dripping with dark, twisted promise. "Scream all you want."

The leader blinked his small eyes. He was completely thrown off balance by her words. He took a tiny half-step backward without even realizing it. His brain could not process what was happening.

Camilla took a slow step forward, matching his retreat. She kept her dark, dead eyes locked onto his.

"Because," Camilla continued, her voice dropping into a smooth, chilling purr that sent pure terror straight into his heart. "The louder you scream, the more excited I get."

The bald leader froze completely. His thick arms hung uselessly at his sides. His jaw dropped open slightly in absolute, utter confusion.

He stared down at the woman standing in front of him. His mind was spinning in circles. He was a ruthless criminal who had terrified hundreds of people, but he had never, ever heard a victim speak to him like this.

"Wait," the leader stammered, his rough voice shaking slightly. He looked around the small, empty room, as if looking for a script he had forgotten to read.

He looked back down at her dangerous, smiling face. He was completely, hopelessly confused.

"Isn’t that my line?" the leader asked.