"Ugh..."

My head spun.

I opened my eyes. The darkness that had swallowed me was gone. Above, a magic lamp hung high, casting an eerie blue glow. Dark red patterns coiled across the ceiling like writhing water snakes.

Who designed this? So ugly.

I muttered the complaint instinctively. But spotting the lamp jolted me—I was back in reality. That endless, clinging darkness had vanished completely, without a trace.

For my claustrophobia, it was perfect.

I struggled upright, only to find my body trembling uncontrollably.

Not fear. Rage.

Pure, seething rage.

My three subordinates’ respect was all surface-deep. Even Carol, who seemed gentle, hadn’t hesitated to lock me up. That pitch-black world after I opened the door earlier? Definitely her doing.

I’d seen this "restriction" gimmick too often in Earth’s fantasy novels. I’d figured it out seconds after waking.

But I couldn’t stomach their fake reverence anymore. As the Great Demon King, I’d make them pay.

I had to make them—

I clenched my tiny fists, sky-blue eyes burning with hatred. After a moment, I uncurled them weakly. My gaze dimmed.

No matter how furious I was, it was just fantasy.

Right now, I was only level 1. Even as the Overlord, my true form was a petite, soft-spoken loli—easy to overpower. Trapped by my own subordinates, confined to this room, I was powerless. I couldn’t even flee by opening the door.

Controlling my fate? A cruel joke.

If I couldn’t protect my own butt, how could I grasp destiny?

I had to get stronger.

Cuteness was just a facade—unreliable. Acting adorable might buy time, but it wasn’t a solution. If it failed, I’d be dessert for these demons in every sense. Only real strength could intimidate the three hypocritical High Rank Demons.

In this level-based world, power meant leveling up. Leveling up meant killing monsters.

But to kill monsters, I needed targets. As Overlord of the Demon Kin, grinding low-level demons was impossible. Only the invading human alliance could give me experience.

Carol said they’d attack soon. Until then, I’d wait silently—gaining freedom, gathering intel.

Confined here with no escape, my best move was resting. Replenishing stamina for whatever trouble came next.

This was my first clear goal since transmigrating. Like sketching manga back on Earth when inspiration struck, my fighting spirit surged. My ahoge perked up proudly.

I could do it.

I, Sibyl Daliana, wouldn’t shame my fellow transmigrators. I’d make this otherworldly journey legendary—ensuring my title as the supreme pink-haired loli Overlord echoed through eternity!

This trial? Just a stepping stone every protagonist faced before triumph!

Soon, I’d rule the world. Counting gold coins daily while lounging on a beautiful Valiant Heroine’s lap—bliss!

Yeah. It had to be. No mistake.

I convinced myself, nodding firmly. I walked to the familiar bed, kicked off my annoying little shoes, and dove in.

Ah. In this cruel reality, only the blanket held a trace of softness. Resting was absolutely the right call.

I rolled in the covers. Still, the Overlord’s quarters were well-appointed. A faint sandalwood-like scent filled the air. The bed and blanket were plush, perfectly cradling this loli body’s craving for comfort.

So comfy.

Comfort soon made me drowsy, drifting toward sleep. I didn’t notice the figure who’d slipped in, watching me silently.

In my haze, I caught a whisper: "such a cute little kitten." Kittens in this castle?

My foggy mind tangled with the question, sinking into chaos. I, Great Demon King Sibyl, fell asleep again—utterly unaware of danger.