Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 85: Cushion Shield

Lethia clutched the fabric of her shirt over her lower belly so tightly that tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

Not because the pain was unbearable, but because she hoped that pressure might somehow suppress the heat pooling deep in her core.

She’d come this far, fought this hard, sharpening her skills just to win. She wanted to break into the system where she could drag Varrel straight into hell.

But if she lost now, every bit of it would be wasted.

"Oh dear, my baby... please," she whispered. "Let me finish this game first, hm? Please don’t act up now."

Her gaze dropped to her belly, pleading openly with a pitiful expression.

She considered taking the medicine again, but the clock hadn’t hit the twelve-hour mark since her last dose, and what if it caused something worse?

Her eyes shut tight as she swallowed the sting rising in her throat, sharp and dry like a fishbone scraping its way down.

She’d made a promise to herself—to track down the pup’s father the moment she secured her place as executive aide.

With her jaw clenched and fists balled, she forced the tears back. Her super hearing had maxed out for the day.

She was frustrated because she couldn’t hear beyond the normal range now.

Turning her head, her eyes landed on the snake box. The red card still lay pinned beneath the snake. She had to take it out.

She walked up to the snake box, studying its position carefully. She wondered, how the hell was she supposed to overpower a damn deadly snake?

Meanwhile, back in the paintball area, even though the enemy team was down to just two players, Squad B2 was struggling.

The opponents had wrapped themselves in makeshift shield armor—fat cushion pads strapped over their vests—blocking every paintball from crashing into the vest.

The life bar won’t go down unless the bullets directly vibrate.

"Where the hell did they even find cushions like that?" Adam muttered, squinting down his sightline from behind cover.

"Looks like sofa cushions. Probably swiped from the first floor, there’s a waiting lounge down there," Chasey answered from across the corridor, flattening herself against the wall to dodge the rain of paintballs.

BRAAAKK!!!

A loud crash echoed, snapping both Adam and Chasey’s heads toward the opposite direction—away from their enemies.

Then—

Screeeech!

They winced as a piercing shriek tore through their earbuds, sharp enough to make Chasey rip hers out. That sound meant only one thing—someone’s comms were fried.

Gritting through the stab in his ear, Adam turned toward the source of the crash, right where Rowan and Flo had been exchanging fire with the other enemy.

"Rowan? Flo? What the hell happened?" Adam barked. Chasey kept firing, locked in the shootout.

"Rowan... he got pissed when I got shot and died, and... he just rammed into the enemy and—Argh! Rowan, stop! You’ll get penalized!" Flo’s voice crackled, and Adam didn’t even need her to finish. He could picture it all too well.

Then came the wild burst of paintball fire from Rowan’s direction—frantic, undisciplined, loud—and Adam assumed Rowan had gone down too.

A physical attack would cost one life bar, and there was no way hot-blooded Rowan had controlled himself to stop. Adam let out a frustrated sigh.

But just as that chaos died down, the enemies who’d been hammering Adam and Chasey suddenly stopped too.

His gunfire ceased, and he was retreating into the corridor that led straight to Rowan’s position.

He peeked out to make sure no more shots were aimed his way, then prepared to rush toward Rowan and Flo’s location.

He gestured for Chasey to follow him, but she lingered, still reloading her paintball rounds.

Just as Adam turned his back to her and moved forward, the same enemy from earlier suddenly appeared from the opposite direction and aimed straight at him.

Without thinking, Chasey threw her body around Adam from behind, shielding him, only to take the shot herself.

The moment Adam spun around in shock, the enemy had already slipped back into hiding. Chasey’s vest lit up the dead indicator.

She hadn’t expected the paintball hit to send a jolt through her spine, making her jerk.

Stunned by the ambush, Adam immediately pulled her into his arms and ducked them both behind the wall.

His arms wrapped so tightly around her smaller frame that Chasey could feel her heart slam harder than any bullet that had struck her.

"Are you okay?" Adam’s frown deepened with the weight of concern in his eyes, making Chasey’s knees turn traitorous beneath her.

"I’m dead..." Chasey answered with exaggerated drama, which only made his brow furrow deeper.

"I think you’re fine. Just rest here, then." He started to release her, but Chasey yanked at the collar of his vest, catching him off guard.

"I... I died in your place, and you say I’m fine?" Her eyes widened with theatrical disbelief, but Adam only gave her a blank stare in return.

"You’ll die by my hands if you keep this act up. You’re fine. It’s just a game."

That cold voice of his shattered Chasey’s little daydream where Adam would kneel and weep over her.

She let go, pouting, realizing—what else could she expect from a cold-headed Beta like Adam, who only ever cared about his career?

The gunfire raged on between Adam and the last opponent. Not long after, he got support from Rowan, who still had one life bar left.

Turned out, Rowan hadn’t attacked just to punch. He’d slammed his body forward to grab the cushion shielding the enemy’s vest.

Once he’d wrestled it off, he fired a round of paintballs point-blank until the bastard dropped. Still, he’d lost a life bar for making physical contact.

Adam told him not to pull another reckless stunt like that again.

But what Rowan did gave Adam an idea. He instructed Chasey and Flo to approach the remaining opponent and rip off the cushion shield stuck to their body.

"But in the manual, the dead can’t attack the living," Flo argued.