The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 142: Go ahead. Let’s see what happens

"You three better keep your thoughts to yourselves... unless you wanna bring her attention over here."

Immediately, the trio froze.

The first one paled.

The second one swallowed.

The third suddenly became deeply interested in the dirt beneath his feet.

Because everyone knew—drawing Isabella’s attention unnecessarily was basically the same thing as applying for a slow, painful death... through words.

"Hey, Bubu," Isabella called in her head, tone flat, brow twitching.

Silence.

She rolled her eyes like a girl waiting for her food delivery driver to stop circling the same block. She knew the system could hear her. It always could. It just chose violence sometimes.

"Bubu," she repeated, sharper this time.

Finally, with the reluctance of a parent called to fix something their kid obviously broke, a semi-transparent screen blinked into existence beside her.

"Must you call me for everything?" Bubu’s voice snapped in her head, sounding every bit like an exhausted mom trying to drink cold coffee in peace.

Isabella just stared at the screen, expression blank. "..."

"I don’t have time for your dramatics," she muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing as she watched the man beside her carefully pour water into a hollowed-out gourd. His hands were slow, precise—like he was touching something sacred.

Still holding Glimora, Isabella bent down slightly. Opehlia, already a bundle of curiosity, leaned in right behind her, puffing with excitement like a marshmallow full of secrets.

"See! I told you it was clean!" Opehlia’s chubby cheeks lit up as she gasped in awe. Her eyes sparkled like she was witnessing holy nectar. "It’s so clean!"

It really was. Clear, glittering even. Not a speck of debris or discoloration.

Which was weird. Because Isabella knew the village water system was, at best, a glorified mud spa before this.

Opehlia still sometimes wondered how nobody knew about that secret water source Isabella had once shown her—the one tucked away behind those large trees, hidden under moss and time. It had felt magical. Untouched.

This, though? This water source had been made by people. Or rather, fixed and finished under Isabella’s command. It shouldn’t look this... pure.

The crowd of villagers began to close in around them, drawn by Opehlia’s excitement like moths to LED.

Men. All of them. Big. Broad. Biceps bulging. And standing way too close.

Cyrus didn’t move from his quiet spot at the edge of the circle. His arms were crossed, his expression neutral—but his eyes never left the crowd of men inching closer to Isabella.

He didn’t like it.

But she wasn’t saying anything, so he stayed put. He knew her well enough now to know she didn’t need rescuing—just space.

Except the men didn’t know how to give her that.

Their sheer size blocked the sun. One minute it was afternoon warmth, and the next it was a sudden overcast gloom. Shadows loomed so thickly, Isabella blinked twice, thinking it might actually rain.

Glimora looked up with wide, confused eyes, blinking as the light disappeared. Opehlia squinted upward, her round face scrunching as if trying to identify if they’d entered a solar eclipse or just a testosterone bubble.

"Why are they acting like they didn’t build the the well?" Opehlia whispered under her breath.

Isabella’s eye twitched. The crowd was too close. Too loud. Too everything. And worst of all—she was on her period.

Her body ached, her stomach felt like a battlefield, and now she had ten oversized, sweaty men breathing down her neck like she was some rare breed of magical duck.

No. Absolutely not.

"STEP. THE FUCK. BACK!!!" Isabella’s voice exploded like a grenade in a silent room.

The sound hit like a whipcrack.

Even the villagers just passing by on errands froze mid-step, necks whipping around, wondering if someone had gotten murdered.

The men? Gone. In an instant. They scattered like roaches under sunlight, scrambling back with a flurry of apologies and panicked glances at Cyrus like he might be able to protect them.

Even Glimora flinched.

Cyrus, still leaned casually against a nearby tree, let out a low, quiet laugh. A real one. Soft and amused.

He’d forgotten just how terrifying Isabella could be when irritated. Most women might’ve flirted. Played coy. Maybe tolerated the attention.

But not her.

Nope. Not the woman who could yell down a room full of grown men while holding a baby beast in one arm like a clutch bag.

Once the path cleared and peace returned, Isabella exhaled like she’d just expelled a demon. She didn’t even bother to turn around to acknowledge the chaos. Her focus was fully on the water now.

Beside her, Ophelia and Glimora exchanged a single wide-eyed glance.

"That was kinda scary... but also really cool," their faces seemed to say.

Then Isabella muttered under her breath, squinting into the gourd.

"Hey Bubu... this water must be really dirty, right?" Isabella tilted her head, squinting hard at the surface while wrinkling her nose like it had personally offended her. "But it’s surprisingly really clean..." Her voice trailed off with suspicion as Glimora blinked curiously from her arms.

"Yes, why don’t you drink it and we’ll experiment then confirm," Bubu replied with way too much excitement, like a shady lab assistant about to commit war crimes in a basement.

Isabella’s entire face dropped, her expression flatlining into one of pure betrayal. "No Bubu. I know it’s dirty," she said, leaning a little closer to glare at the crystal-clear water as if it might suddenly confess its sins.

"Then why are you still asking me?" freeweɓnovel.cѳm

Bubu’s voice rang with pure sarcasm, and Isabella could practically hear the eye-roll.

Isabella’s mouth parted in disbelief. "Oh my god, you’re getting sassier by the day."

"You’re rubbing off on me. Be proud."

She glared at the water like it personally offended her. "Why are you even programmed to have personality?"

"Because apparently the universe wanted to test your patience."

Isabella narrowed her eyes. "You are this close to a factory reset, I swear."

"And you this close to drinking unfiltered bacteria water. Go ahead. Let’s see what happens."

She shut her mouth, mentally slamming the conversation shut like a laptop lid. She refused to continue. Talking to Bubu was like arguing with a mirror that won every time.

With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand migraines, Isabella straightened and dusted off her skirt. Only to freeze.

Dozens of wide, hopeful eyes were locked on her like she was some water priestess about to speak divine truth.

She blinked. "Okay, no pressure," she muttered under her breath.

"It’s clean," she said at last, pausing for dramatic effect. "But it still needs purifying. Which... might be a little difficult."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Then, from her right, Cyrus stepped forward with that familiar, quiet grace. "I can help," he said simply, voice calm and reassuring. "With magic."

Gasps exploded through the crowd like someone had just announced a second sun.