The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 228 - 229: You? With your little toy?

"So you’re the one," the first man said, stepping forward with a heavy, predatory smirk. His voice was gravel and pride, like someone who’d spent too much time feeling important in swamps. "The one they keep whispering about. The so-called goddess who creates strange things."

Isabella blinked, looked him up and down slowly, and made a face like someone just shoved sour goat meat into her nose. "No offense—actually, full offense—but did you crawl here?"

The man’s face darkened for a second before the other one next to him spoke up.

The second man chuckled, his grin too wide, teeth uneven like he chewed stones for breakfast. "Well, she is beautiful. Too beautiful, in fact. Too perfect, isn’t she? I can’t wait to claim her."

Isabella’s soul left her body for half a second.

"Claim me?" she repeated, her voice rising with every syllable. "CLAIM ME?! Sir, if you take another step toward me, I swear on everything sacred, I will vomit so hard it becomes a weapon. I would rather dissolve in slime than be touched by a crusty toenail like you!"

The first man squinted, confused. "...Toenail?"

"Yes, toenail!" she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger. "Look at yourself. Scar everywhere, hair matted like you’ve been kissing trees, and breath—oh God, I can smell you from here. I’d rather die. Just kill me. Take me out, let me rest. Honestly, this whole thing is a hate crime."

The third man, who hadn’t spoken yet, growled. "You’ve got a filthy mouth."

"And you’ve got a filthy everything!" Isabella barked, pressing her palm to her forehead like she was about to faint. "My God, I’m being attacked by the Swamp Avengers."

One of them stepped forward.

Isabella’s sassy composure cracked just slightly.

’Okay. Okay, I’m going to die. This is how I die. Not with a dramatic scream or a noble sacrifice—but surrounded by three loincloth-wearing cave rejects who smell like disappointment.’

Still, she squared her shoulders.

"If you take one more step," she said, voice tight and dramatic, "I shall end you."

The three of them blinked.

She raised her hand, and in a bright flash of sparkly light, her fan appeared in her hand—white, shimmering, beautiful.

Their eyes widened.

"What is that?!" one of them barked. "How did she summon that?"

"That’s not possible," the other muttered. "There’s no aura coming from her. No power."

Isabella rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of her head. "There’s no aura coming from her," she mimicked in a voice three pitches too high. "Sir, just say you’re confused and go."

She snapped the fan open with flair, her hand trembling only slightly. "This is your last warning. As you heard, I create strange things. And this fan right here? It’s about to create your downfall."

The men laughed.

Laughed.

Laughed like she just said she was the queen of the moon.

"You? With your little toy?" the first one snorted. "We’ll rape you right here, and no one will do a damn thing."

And for one second.

One tiny second.

Isabella felt her heart stop.

Just one beat. Her knees almost buckled, but she didn’t let it show. She gripped the fan harder.

Inside, her brain was on fire.

’Bubu. Please. Please. I don’t want to end like this. I’m too pretty to die like this. Say something. Anything. Please. I’m actually begging for once—don’t do me like this.’

But Bubu?

Bubu was silent.

Dead silent.

’That evil system probably went to charge itself or something’, she thought bitterly.

Fine. She would do it herself.

She drew in a breath, raised the fan, and with a fierce yell swung it toward the nearest man.

Light flashed.

The fan made that satisfying whoosh.

She braced for the impact, the divine slicing, the explosion of badassery—

Tap.

The man flinched.

Then looked down at his arm.

A red scratch.

Just... a scratch.

"Ow?" he said, confused. "Did she just—scratch me?"

The second man blinked. "That’s it?"

Isabella stared at the fan like it betrayed her.

Then she remembered.

Oh my God...

That time after the mountain—when she’d left after a whole day and nearly collapsed—Bubu had told her. Said the fan would reset to level 0. She’d forgotten the fan reset after the mountain—now it had the strength of a broken nail file.

"Oh my God," she whispered again, holding the fan up like it might explain itself. "What kind of crackhead system do I have? Who does this?!"

The men snickered.

"The toy’s cute," one said, stepping forward again. "But we’ve seen stranger. Usually we break those toys. Then we break the woman."

Isabella’s hand trembled. Her legs were wobbling now, but she still stood tall. Still raised her chin.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she sucked them in, furious at herself.

She was not going to cry because of a man.

Hell no.

Not today. Not ever.

’I’ve always stood tall," she thought. "I won’t bow now—not even to death.’

"You stink," she said flatly, voice icy. "Just putting that out there. If your goal was to be horrifying and musty, congratulations, you succeeded."

The men growled, clearly getting annoyed now.

"Get her," the leader barked.

They began to advance.

Glimora growled in her arms, fur rising, body tensed.

Isabella held the fan tight.

Her eyes darted left and right.

She had nothing. No real weapon. No way to fight. And Bubu? Bubu had abandoned her like a bad ex.

They were closing in.

’Any minute now, I’ll have to scream. Maybe I can bite one? Maybe I can—’

Then—

They paused.

All three.

Mid-step. Still. Frozen.

Isabella blinked.

"Um... hello?" she said cautiously, eyes darting between them. "Is this part of some weird dance routine? Because I promise I’m not interested—"

Suddenly—

All three of their heads dropped.

Not figuratively.

Literally.

Their heads fell off.

Clean.

Gone.

Isabella stared in horror as the bodies crumpled like wet blankets, blood pooling fast.

Glimora shrieked in full beast-mode, a piercing, high-pitched cry that rattled the air.

Isabella screamed and slapped her hand over her nose. "EEEW— oh my GOD! Did they have to die like that?"

She staggered back a step, nearly slipping on the slick mess.

"What in the... what the actual..." She was blinking rapidly, her entire face wrinkled in sheer disgust.

Visit freewe𝑏no(v)el.𝘤𝑜𝓂 for the best novel reading experi𝒆nce